


Snoezi's Speeding Bullet Drabble Collection

by Snoezibol



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: A place for me to dumb all my SniperScout drabbles, I'm not tagging all this bc I'd love to actually get some sleep tonight, It's generally fluffy, Keep an eye out for warnings however, M/M, and there's a lot, because I have no self control, for archival purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 55,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snoezibol/pseuds/Snoezibol
Summary: A place for me to keep all my Speeding Bullet drabbles that don't lead anywhere
Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 104





	1. And I'm Taking The Dog Too

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so most of these are drabbles from my old writing blog that I found on my PC and edited (and there are still quite the few I have to edit, so there sure are more to come!) and after that this will serve more as a dumping ground for all the little short stories I'll write about these two!  
> So yeah, prepare yourself for shitty inconsistent writing and stories that are generally just all over the place
> 
> Sure sounds like a fun time

"Jeremy, don't be ridiculous!" He threw his suitcase closed, ignoring the distressed calling of his mother as she begged him to calm down and rethink what he was doing. It was futile, however, things had been too upsetting for him to consider staying home. It was his annual and _only_ vacation of the year, for crying out loud, why did everything just have to be ruined like this?

From the moment Scout's mother informed him her new boyfriend would be joining them for Christmas, the runner already knew to be wary. He hadn't met this guy yet, but judging the guys his mother had dated in the past ( _including_ Spy) Scout had an inkling that this new dude wouldn't be any different.

And turns out, he was _completely_ right.

From the moment he arrived home, excited to see his family and buzzing with a Christmas feeling, this guy was ready to salt Scout's game. He was obnoxious, disrespectful and outright rude, yelling at everything and everyone like he owned the goddamn place. (he didn't, _Scout_ did, considering that _he_ bought that goddamned house for his mother)

But the worst part of all was that he acted just the same towards Scout's mother and it physically _hurt_ to see how painfully unaware she was of it. It made Scout's blood boil, seeing this _stranger_ treating his mother like trash, treating his brothers like trash and _nobody_ did a single thing.

Scout realised why. This guy, well _Dave_ , was a lot smarter than he actually looked. He had this nauseating habit of charming the pants off of _anyone_ , only to continue what he was doing and remain just as rude and uncivil as he was before. Scout was very much onto him and it was frustrating to see that he was the only one.

Well, not entirely. His mother's little dog also didn't like the guy.

He was an abusive prick, a dickhead who clearly needed some sense knocked into him, but Scout knew that was _exactly_ what he wanted. An 'overreaction' on Scout's part to get everyone else on his side and mark Scout as the official bad guy.

Whatever, he'd had enough and that's what brought him here, angrily packing his bags, packing his car to return to base and just celebrate Christmas there. Home was upsetting him far too much.

"Jeremy!" He heard the dread in her voice despite her trying to stay stern, felt his heart break as he moved past her to get to his car, but it was easily overshadowed by the fact that she, and _anyone_ there, had picked that asshole Dave over him.

He walked down the stairs, ignoring anyone nagging at him to just drop it and stay, until he made a move to go outside and someone harshly grabbed onto his arm. Scout turned himself around with a look that could truly kill if he really wanted to across his features, because staring back at him once he turned himself around was that _prick_ Dave.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin'?" He growled threatening.

Scout wasn't exactly impressed, mentally rolling his eyes at everyone else staring at them like their lives were in danger or something. "None of your fuckin' business, now is it?" He offered daringly, watching the look in Dave's eyes darken with anger.

"Now listen up good, ya brat." Dave spit back, shaking him just slightly to try and dominate him. Jokes on him, however, _nothing_ could possibly shake Scout anymore, not after being blown out of his socks by Demo's grenades _more than once_. "You're gonna drop this entire stupid lil' act an' stay here with the rest of us."

"Didn't fuckin' think so, _asshole_." Scout knew he was pushing far beyond this guy's boundaries, pissing him off even further than he ever thought was possible and watching his eyebrow twitch out of pure rage. Scout was seriously getting in Dave's hair here and it was rather visible in the way he suddenly yelled out his next words, probably frustrated at the fact that he couldn't get Scout to act the way he wanted, just like he'd done with everyone else.

"I've had about _enough_ of you, ya lil' dramatic fuck! You're gonna listen to _me_ now." Apparently that had been a verbal warning for the physical assault that was soon following, but watching that fist move towards him, some of his battlefield instinct woke up within Scout as he grabbed Dave's wrist, remembering he _did_ know how to fight opposed to this dick. So he twisted his arm this and that way until he had it curled behind Dave's back in a painful way, grip iron like and nearly impossible to escape.

Everything had gone so fast and that was evident in the way Dave's eyes lit up with confusion as suddenly _he_ was the one being overpowered and not Scout. "Don't mess with me, alright?" Scout warned, eyes hooded and going dark, completely overpowered by the fact that he simply has had enough.

"Get off of me!" Dave tried, but Scout's grip was surprisingly staying in place, thanks to some well-needed power training with Heavy.

"Jeremy!" His mother tried again, obviously shocked by seeing him act up like this. "Stop right now!"

"No." He completely ignored his mother, twisting Dave's arm even higher when the guy was still trying to struggle out of his hold. "Now you listen to me, alright? You're a fuckin' _asshole_ ,"

"Jer!"

"an' I hope ma ma will see that soon an' finally fuckin' dump your ass. But for now, I'll give ya _one_ warnin', alright?" Now some of his brothers also tried to get Scout to his senses, but all it did was create commotion that startled his mother's little dog, Jax, now barking loudly. "I should just punch you right in the face, but I'm not gonna. Instead, I'm goin', I'm freakin' leavin', but if I _ever_ hear ya hurt _anyone_ in this room I will hunt you down an' _kill_ you. Got it?"

He finally released Dave from his hold, pushing him away and sending him stumbling forwards, watching him topple onto the ground and looking like the idiot he was in the meantime. Jax was still barking loudly at the scene, turning his attention to Dave who was sitting onto the floor and even growling at him.

Jax _really_ was the only individual here, next to Scout, who actually realised what was up, wasn't he?

"Get away from me, _rat_." Dave kicked at the dog in a fit of anger after being embarrassed like that and the sight already didn't sit well with Scout. Jax was his little buddy. Despite not being the biggest fan of dogs, Jax was an exception and Dave had to stay the fuck away from him.

"Hey, watch it!" Scout already warned. "I said _anyone_ , that's also the dog, you _dick_." He held Dave's gaze long enough to be sure he'd gotten the warning, collecting his suitcase form off of the ground next and turning to his family who where all looking at him like _he_ had ruined Christmas, as if _he_ had overreacted by telling Dave _exactly_ how it was.

"Happy now?" Tommy deadpanned, one hand on their mother's shoulder to comfort her and expression so utterly disappointed that Scout honestly felt his chest aching, but why though? Why was everyone so quick to agree that he was wrong and not the obvious dickhead sitting on the ground, kicking at the dog. The _only_ individual in this entire room to be on his side, mind you.

"Are you guys fuckin' kiddin' me? What the hell did _I_ do wrong?! Dave's been actin' like a right asshole all week! Has been yellin' at everyone _includin'_ ma 'bout how shitty it is to be here, yet _I'm_ the one who ruined this vacation?! How are you all so fuckin' blind to see that?!" He gripped harshly onto the handles of his suitcase, a pang of pain and hurt shooting throughout him as no one reacted to what he just had said, everyone still looking at him like he had three heads.

Wonderful. Betrayed by his own fucking family.

"Whatever. I'm done with this bullshit. I can see I'm _clearly_ not wanted here any longer so I'll be goin'." Bitter to a point where nothing really mattered to him for a good second, Scout felt Jax lovingly brush his snout against his calf, now a sudden and heedless idea sparking in his mind. "An' y'know what?! I'm takin' the freakin' dog too, 'cause he doesn't deserve to be in this fuckin' mess!"

A lot of brows furrowed as Scout picked up the little dog into his arms and marched towards the hallway, everyone probably expecting Scout to come to his senses or to at least realise that this was ridiculous and put Jax back down, but Scout never relented.

"Thanks for everythin'," Scout spoke. "an' merry _fuckin'_ Christmas." 

He slammed the door on his way out, his mind in a slight confusing haze not really realising what exactly just had happened as he suddenly sat in his car, with Jax in the passenger seat enthusiastically cocking his little head and wagging his tail at him. For the first time in the last hour, Scout finally decided to take a breather, to calm down, to count to ten and reason with himself. Not to stop all this and _surely_ not to convince himself to go back, but to put everything in a neat row and think exactly of what he was going to do next.

Well, there's only one place to go, really.

_It's thirty plus hours away, though_. _Will Jax be fine?_

He rummaged his head for a solution as he clenched and unclenched his jaw harshly, hand mimicking that action as it gripped harshly onto the steering wheel. Looking at the little dog in his passenger seat who looked so utterly hopeful himself, he reached out to pat his little head, smiling as Jax wagged his tail again and he knew, this little guy was way better off with him than with _anyone_ else in that stupid house.

No... not a _stupid_ house. Scout was just mad, at Dave for being such a manipulative asshole and at his brothers and ma for not seeing that. Jax saw it though and it was them against the rest of the world for now.

"I'll make lots of stops so you can spread your lil' legs, waddaya think?" Scout went to pet him again, smiling at Jax's unmovable positive spirit and cheerful little face. "Alright great. Now ya gotta stay in this seat though, this car's gonna _move_ an' I don't want you to hurt yourself. Deal?" As if understanding him, Jax planted his butt onto that seat subsequently laying down and opposing no problem at all. Jax had always been a great listener. Being the little Cairn terrier that he was, he was a joyful, intelligent and friendly little dog, but for whatever reason that was truly beyond him had Jax always taken a serious liking to Scout, even more than to his mother and whenever he would visit, Jax would be so very happy.

And now Scout had basically claimed Jax for himself, well not _entirely_ for himself, he had a hunch a certain someone else was going to be rather pleased with this sudden change of events.

He started the engine and finally drove away. They still had a _long_ drive to go, so there was no time to lose.

**********************

After a little less than two full days of driving, Scout and Jax had _finally_ gotten to their destination; The base. It had taken them much longer than was necessarily needed because every chance they got to rest a bit after speeding down miles on an overcrowded highway was a chance they had to take, for Jax's sake. But the little four - legged lad had been a total gem this entire time and Scout honestly hadn't expected anything else. With every moment passing by, he was more and more convinced it had been a _great_ idea to take Jax with him, the little scallywag honestly had been his tower of strength during their journey.

"C'mon Jax, let's go say hi. I wanne introduce ya to someone." He'd opened the door at the passenger side, watching Jax jump out and curiously lifted his little head to look all around himself. Scout just smiled. "It's a bit strange here I know, you're not used to an environment like this, but neither was I the first time I got here an' I promise you do get used to it." He went to lock up his car, taken a brief look around the garage to notice Engie's truck. Seemed like also hardhat had no plans this vacation, so Pyro and Sniper had some other company besides each other. Good. Sniper is quiet as hell and Pyro isn't any better, with Engie there the two might have actually _communicated_ with another person while the rest was gone.

And now Scout was here with his little companion as well, the more the merrier, right?

Scout entered the base with Jax neatly following after him, walking through an empty and quiet hallway only to eventually hear talking coming from the kitchen and immediately steering out that way.

He wasn't going to lie, he was rather excited to be back. Home had been extremely upsetting and in all fairness he _had_ missed Sniper a lot. Perhaps this Christmas could be saved after all.

He rounded the corner and stood in the door opening of the kitchen for a second, finding Sniper and Engineer in a conversation with each other which stalled within an instance of spotting Scout and... was that a dog?

"Hi guys." Scout called sheepishly with a tired grin across his face, rather amused with the utter confusion on both their faces. "So, home sucked, so I decided to come back. Also," He bent down to pick up Jax. "I kind a _stole_ ma's dog so, he'll be stayin' with us now."

Engineer shook his head. "That's rather _unexpected_." He offered.

"Yeah.." Sniper added cautiously. "Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to see ya, love, but you said you'd be stayin' home until next Sunday."

"Well, like I said, everythin' back home fuckin' sucked an' I didn't feel like wastin' ma Christmas, y'know?"

Sniper and Engineer shared a look, before the marksman rose from his chair with a somewhat worried and awaiting expression across his features which Scout answered with a look that clearly said _later_. Right now, he wanted to sheer away from all the drama and actually enjoy a moment's rest. After all, he was finally able to introduce Jax to Sniper and he'd been looking forward to that from the moment he'd left home.

"This is Jax." He held the little dog up higher so he was face to face with Sniper and it was just a _delight_ to see the marksman's eyes light right up. "Don't let those lil' legs deceive ya though. He's only three years old an' _active as absolute hell_." 

The marksman smiled at the little dog, petting his head and greeting Jax with such a soft voice, Scout was convinced he'd never heard it before. "Well, suppose he's a cairn terrier, right?" Scout nodded his head, not even surprised anymore that Sniper knew that. "They're active little devils."

He put Jax back down, now the both of them watching him chase his own little tail. "Yeah, whenever I'm home I take 'em with me on jogs an' stuff. It's great."

"Funny," Sniper commented, raising his brow just slightly in surprise. "I thought ya didn't really like dogs."

"Jax is an exception, he's lil' an' I trust 'em. Big dogs are a total different story though." He shook his head. "Anyway, I hope dogs are allowed here, 'cause I ain't plannin' on bringin' 'em back any time soon." That question had been indirectly meant for Engineer, looking over his shoulder at the hardhat who gave him a knowing smirk.

"Animals are allowed, no worries." He reassured Scout. "Medic has his doves, ain't he? This lil' fella can stay here as long as necessary." Jax walked up to where Engineer was seated, cautiously exploring and deciding that Engineer opposed no threat at all. The hardhat smiled at the little dog sniffing his hand and the sight was delightful to see.

He'd only been here for half an hour and he already felt so much better. Coming back to base had been a great decision and taking Jax with him had been even better.

It was so great to be _home_ during Christmas.

**********************

That evening Sniper and Scout had retreated to the REC room, sprawled out on the couch together with Jax having found a cosy little space for himself half squashed between them and his little head resting on Scout's thigh. It had been their intent to watch a movie, but the TV had become soothing background noise to them once the topic of Scout's home situation came up and Scout finally allowed himself to complain and whine, knowing he was just fine.

"I was so fuckin' mad. _Everyone_ just picked this fucker over me! He'd been yellin' an' complainin' all week already, but _oh no_ _I_ ruined everythin' by startin' a fuss over _nothin'_ apparently. God fuckin' damn it." He buried his face in his hands for a second, groaning in discomfort and feeling so very uneasy. He's had enough time these past two days to consider his feelings and realise what a fucking psycho Dave actually was and ever since that revelation he'd been worried about leaving his entire family alone with him.

Hopefully Dave had _actually_ gotten his message.

"Ah... I'm sorry, love." He felt two arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him a bit closer, still minding Jax though who hadn't moved from his spot comfortably between them. "I know this is rather unpleasant, but I believe ya made the right call though and hey sooner or later your family will realise their mistake and get rid of that dickhead."

"Hopefully," Scout replied, leaning his head onto Sniper's chest. "usually ma uses more common sense whenever she has a new boyfriend, I've never had her choosin' their side over mine or any of ma brothers. There's just somethin' 'bout that asshole, he's able to charm the hell outta _everyone_."

"Except you."

Scout smiled at that addition, noticing Jax _finally_ getting up from his spot and stumbling over two pairs of legs to find a better sleeping place higher up. "Yeah, except me _an'_ Jax." Scout gently started scratching under Jax's jaw once the little scallywag got close enough and soon enough Sniper's hand joined, patting Jax's back until he found himself a spot on Scout's chest with his head partly resting on Sniper's stomach.

"I'm _so_ glad I didn't bring you home with me though, this was just really... _embarrassin',_ I would have been _so_ ashamed if you'd been there to see it all _._ " He sighed out, looking back at Sniper who wore a slightly worried expression and that was a look Scout did not want to see right now. It wasn't necessary. So he smiled at the marksman, leaning up as far he was able to, to plant a kiss along Sniper's jaw line. "I'm happy to be back, honestly. I'd rather spend Christmas with you anyway. Far less drama."

"I'm... also rather glad you decided to come back." Sniper spoke honest after a moment of hesitation, looking back at Scout and shooting him a lazy grin. It wasn't that awfully common for Sniper to be this honest about things he wanted himself, probably afraid to sound selfish, but Scout understood. After all, he _had_ missed Sniper a great deal in the one week he'd been gone from base.

He repositioned his head to lay comfortably on Sniper's chest again, sighing content before muttering, "Ya know I love ya a lot, right?"

"I do, love," The marksman answered, hugging Scout just that tad bit closer to himself and kissing the crown of his head, before adding: "and I love you too."

\--


	2. At The Drop of a Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for descriptions of a heart attack and possible character death, depends on how you interpret it

Nobody said a thing, the annoyance of losing that days battle enough to keep everyone silent as they walked back to base. Safe from the slumbering footsteps and the occasional sigh, the air around them all was dead as if you'd pick up a phone and listen to the hypnotic static sound filling up that furthermore cold space. Though through the agonizing silence, everyone was rethinking their mistakes as if their life's depended on it, if you listened closely you could hear the thoughts screaming in their minds. Engineer regretting not building that dispenser, Demo grudgingly scoffing himself for blowing his own leg off or Medic's guilt levels rising for not being able to help everyone but what seriously took the cake, was Sniper's reason for stillness.

At a given moment during the battle, a fight was being held at a wooden bridge somewhere. BLU tried to get through, but RED kept blocking their way with everything they could manage. Sniper had been watching from afar, carefully taking out those who came too close or had recently killed one of his teammates, but at a certain moment his shot missed. With terror Sniper had watched how his bullet punctured a barrel containing something entirely different than your usual water. The thick oil leaked out and within the span of a second the entire bridge exploded and the _entire_ RED team were send through respawn. He didn't dare show himself after that and even now, when he was forced to walk back with everyone _he_ had killed, Sniper refused to look up and acknowledge he was there.

It had been a shit day, everyone was pissed off at the other team, each other, but mostly at themselves. It was no use pointing a finger around, everyone had taken their part in that tremendous failure. Truthfully they had no one else to blame but themselves.

The struggle of that day didn't seem to end there however. Midway their return to base to all go their separate ways and pray that tomorrow will be a better day, the youngest member of the team was experiencing some trouble of his own. Breath coming quick and a stinging pain kept spreading through his chest. His legs felt weak as if he had run ten miles with the both of them broken and violent palpitations made it feel like a drum was stuck right beneath his skin. Ever since the battle stopped, Scout had been feeling that way. Uneasy with a flushed face and an unsteady rise and fall of his chest while he felt every inch of himself throb painfully hard. It was strange, unusual really. _Never_ had he experienced such a sensation. Was he about to faint maybe? It was anyone's guess really, because the runner wouldn't know what that feels like, he's never fell unconscious before. So much the more reason for this to not make any sense.

Hiding his unease was becoming the biggest bother of all. Given that the entire team was moping in silence, the sound of Scout's laboured breathing was something easy to pick up. Though the base was drawing closer, however, Scout wondered if he could make it there without getting anyone to question what was going on. A good nap would help levitate the burden, he was sure of it!

Well, if he was even capable of getting there that is because not a moment later another painful sting forced Scout to come to a stop, hand coming up to clutch his shirt right where the pain was most intense. What was going on? The runner tried breathing in and out in a steady manner, hoping against all odds he'd gain a grip on himself again that way, but with every short inhale and a shaky exhale following after, Scout noticed things weren't going the way he wanted them to go. Maybe he was going through a panic attack? But what could have triggered that? God fucking damn this he had no idea and the stress of it only made everything worse!

"Scout?" Someone was calling out for him, but Scout couldn't tell who. The voice had been an unclear sound, his ears unable to filter anything from it at that distance. He didn't like that, his senses being robbed from him without excuse agitated him beyond belief, but his body was far too weak to show any of it.

"Oi, Scout is everythin' okay?" The voice was clearing up the closer the person got and as the runner finally managed to look up he found a worried Sniper staring back at him. Though he hated distressing the marksman like this, Scout was happy that out of everyone, Sniper had noticed this drastic decline. He felt more comfortable around him, safer, well of course he did, they were a _couple_ after all.

"Y-yeah.." He managed weakly. "Just.. havin' a bit... difficulty b-breathin'... that..tha-" Unable to finish his sentence, Scout suddenly collapsed like a limp ragdoll. A heavy feeling taking over him as his head hit the ground and his vision started to go. The moment he fell unconscious Sniper had called out his name, the sound of it echoing through his head, but the part that really made his skin crawl was when Sniper sat down next to him and anxiously spoke to himself.

"He has no pulse."

How could that be possible? Scout was still aware enough to know what was going on, how could he lack a pulse? He heard Sniper's voice calling out for the rest of the team, felt those hands doing chest compressions and even though his vision started to darken at its corners, becoming smaller with each absent heartbeat, he watched how some of his teammates ran up to them, so... how could he be _dying_?

"C'mon bloody hell Scout don't you fuckin' die on me!" As the marksman fought tooth and nail to get him back, doing every step of CPR as correctly as he remembered them, Scout noted terrified how his vision _did_ start to fully go now. Only darkness remaining and the life draining out of him as if someone forgot to turn the faucet off. He was scared, petrified at the idea that maybe he'd never return again. So Scout did what he could, instead of frightening himself with what could be his end, the runner tried to remember every feature of Sniper's face. The way he laughed, frowned, the way those grey eyes would lit up just a bit whenever they saw each other. He remembered their first encounter or how awkward he felt when they confessed. Remembered how Sniper's gentle snoring would drag him right into slumber as well. He remembered it all, because he loved it all.

And as everything seemed to shut down and finally his hearing faltered too, Scout could only think one thing.

" _Help me, Snipes..I don't want to die... because I love you too much to let you go.._ "

\--


	3. Change of Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an idea a lot of people have already done, you know the typical Speeding Bullet prompt where what if Scout went with Miss Pauling to fetch Sniper in Australia instead of Demo one and eventhough it's already been done a million times and also a million times better, here's mine anyway

The drive had taken a shit load of time, far too long if you asked Scout. But there he stood, next to Miss Pauling, silently watching the old withered house in front of them with almost a concerned touch in their expressions. Here it was, the house of a certain Aussie the two had set out to fetch, but it looked so abandoned as if someone had left it in a hurry years prior to this day.

"So... ya sure Snipes still actually lives here?" Scout asked, his blue gaze roaming uncertainly about as he looked around the property. He heard Miss Pauling sigh deeply before searching her pockets for a notebook. Pushing her usually crooked glassed back into place, the little woman scanned the pages of the coffee coloured book before harshly closing it again, the gush of wind blowing the stray hairs that weren't tied up in her bun out of her face.

"Most definitely. This is his childhood home, he lives here with his pare-" Winching at the sound of her own words, Miss Pauling knew she had given away too much information. Sniper probably wasn't going to like anyone knowing about his situation, surely not the notorious loud mouth of the crew. To her amazement, however, she didn't hear him laugh or question anything. No as a matter of fact, Scout finished what she had unknowingly started.

"With his parents yeah, I know. But like, maybe in the time we lost our jobs an' now, Snipes has moved on to somethin' else y'know? Wouldn't surprise me if he's _God knows where_ right now for an assassination or somethin'." She couldn't believe how _serious_ Scout appeared to be. As if it was the most normal thing to talk about Sniper like that, as if it wasn't strict secretive information he was spouting right now.

Facing away from the front of the house to sport a look at Miss Pauling, Scout didn't understand the perplexed look she was giving him. Her normal tired expression looked twice as empathised due to the way her head was cocked and the way she was staring over her glasses rather than through them was making Scout anxious. Was the heat starting to get to her?

"How do you know that?" She eventually asked, nothing in her expression changing.

"W-what? 'bout Snipes ya mean?" Miss Pauling nodded, confusion more visible with every passing second. "Oh, he told me." Was all the runner said before being the first one to make a move to go inside. Cocking an eyebrow, Miss Pauling silently followed him, watching how Scout tried ringing the bell once, then twice, a third time for good luck and eventually knocked loudly and rather obnoxiously on the door when not even the slightest indications of movement were heard inside. It was clear that Scout was about the give up, but not before he tried the doorknob. Grabbing hold of it and sharing a surprised look with Miss Pauling as it didn't restrain against his will, the runner opened the door, both of them stepping into the awfully dark house. It's state on the outside had already given them the suspicion of no one actually being there, but the inside was what really convinced them. Every inch of every single room was inhabited by darkness and when Miss Pauling turned on a flashlight (after trying the light switch and coming to the realisation that there didn't seem to be electricity) furniture was stacked together and big white blankets were thrown over them. Nothing, literally _nothing_ told them someone might actually be living here as even the kitchen was in a state they both doubted anyone would use.

As the two looked around, scanning every inch of the place for an indication of life, Miss Pauling couldn't help but to think of what Scout had told her. She found it hard to believe that Sniper, the most closed off person she has ever come across in the entirety of her career, would share information as such with anyone and _surely_ not with Scout. The runner basically was everything Sniper _wasn't_ and maybe that's why she experienced so much trouble believing the tail. For a moment she actually believed Scout may be lying and that he had gained that piece of information while snooping around, but for whatever reason she found herself dismissing that thought and shrugging off the feeling. Say about Scout what you want; he's loud, annoying, unable to know when he's too much, but he's also honest. He's always been.

But even coming to that conclusion, Miss Pauling couldn't help the feeling of wanting to know more about this.

"Say Scout." She suddenly said out of the blue as both she and the runner were cautiously climbing the stairs towards the first floor of the house. "How come Sniper told you about his situation?"

"I dunno." The runner muttered, which came as yet another surprise to her. Scout _never_ mutters. "I asked 'bout it an' he told me?" Scout hated how that sounded more like a question than it was doing a job serving as an answer. Truth was, he and Sniper had shared quite a lot of personal information with one another in the time they were colleagues. As a matter of fact, they were good friends back then and even though Scout hated admitting it, in the time the two had started getting to know each other he had developed something that might have been a crush or it were his feelings clustering into confusion. Either way, it had been real sad saying goodbye to the one person who he admired so much and who actually shared some respect for him in return. Being here now, however, about to see his old friend again Scout couldn't help how it was making him feel. Though he wouldn't admit that to Miss Pauling, hell no! She'd think he was a wuss or something.

"I never expected Sniper to do something like that. I mean, whenever I spoke to him he seemed very _wary_ of everything happening around him."

"Ah well," Scout shrugged with an air of casualness. "guess Snipes just likes me. You'll see, once we find 'em that bastard will be happy seein' his old pal Scout back." Oh how he wished he didn't had to say pal.

Seeing that Miss Pauling was starting to catch up with what was happening, she's a smart lady Scout hadn't expected anything else really, the runner tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Are we sure Snipes ain't like, layin' dead here somewhere? Don't ya think he'd show himself once hearin' someone in his home? I mean, he's never been for people gettin' in his business, but he ain't _this_ obnoxious.." But Sniper wasn't laying dead somewhere. The marksman had emerged from one of the rooms, syringe in hand, the moment he heard two disembodied muffled voices within his childhood home. He didn't understand why people would wander in here, hadn't he done enough to make it seem abandoned? Then again, maybe it were two teenagers looking for a thrill. It wouldn't come as a surprise to Sniper that this house had been labelled as a haunted one since it looked so run down. Well, unknowing nitwits or not, they needed to leave and Sniper knew exactly how.

Midway walking down the dark hallway, however, Sniper swore he picked up something strangely familiar. A voice, an accent and a nickname he hadn't heard in a long while. Could it be? No, that's impossible! It must be someone just sounding _similar_ to Scout. There was no way that gremlin, who lived in _America_ he was so polite to remind himself, would be walking around in this house.

Though the closer he got the less he managed to convince himself. Still, he wouldn't know for sure until he actually saw who it was rudely invading his privacy here and as long as he was oblivious to that information, the marksman gripped onto the syringe in his hand. It wasn't anything _dangerous_ he'd inject them with. Just something to sedate them long enough for him to get rid of them, explain that whoever you want.

Finally reaching the place where the voices seemed to be coming from, Sniper had managed to stay as silent as he knew to be. Not one floorboard had creaked, not _once_ had his boot clicked, but as he ever so stupidly spoke Scout's name out of surprise, immediately blowing his cover, the marksman felt like seriously hitting himself over the head with something.

Suddenly hearing his name, Scout made an embarrassing little jump before quickly turning around. Given that the house was just as dark upstairs as it was downstairs, Scout squinted his eyes though quickly widening them out of shock as Miss Pauling shone the flashlight over to the hallway and they both found a, just as confused as they were, Aussie staring back at them.

"Snipes?" Scout questioned as if there was still a change the man before them _wasn't_ Sniper. "Snipes!!" He abruptly blurted out after a few seconds of hesitation, throwing his arms around the marksman's neck and pulling him into a tight hug. "You're actually still alive!"

"'c-course I am." The marksman nearly sounded unconvinced about it himself. Looking past Scout's shoulder at Miss Pauling, Sniper gave her a polite, somewhat awkward nod considering the position he was in right now. He wasn't going to lie, Sniper was real glad to see Scout and since he kind of wanted to _show_ Scout he was just as happy to see him as the runner was seeing Sniper, the marksman felt like returning the hug was a sort of must. Though right as he was about to wrap his arms around Scout's waste, Sniper realised he was still holding onto the syringe he had taken with him out of precaution. Thinking quickly, he released it from his hand and casually crushed it with his boot. Whether Scout was happy to see him or not, knowing about his original plan of sedating these two and getting _rid_ of them really wasn't the best ice breaker after all this time.

"What are you two doin' here?" Sniper questioned after Scout released him from the embrace. Miss Pauling yet again pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before smiling at Sniper and replying.

"The Administrator gave me the order to reassemble the team-"

"Yeah!" Scout chimed in. "Fortress is gettin' back together! Demo, Solly an' Pyro are fetchin' Heavy right now as we speak!"

"And you two are here to fetch _me_ I suppose?"

"Exactly!" The runner rather cringingly finger gunned towards Sniper with a wink, it made the marksman chuckle either way. Sniper hadn't forgotten about the friendship he had with Scout (and neither about the fondness he had for him) before everybody got fired and somewhere he regretted not hearing a single thing from him overtime, but due to everything that had happened over the past few months, it wasn't a surprise that Sniper hadn't been thinking about something like that. First _both_ his parents passing away and then the rather shocking discovery that the two people who supposedly had been his parents, actually _weren't_.

"Waddaya say Snipes? You're comin' with us, right? Fortress ain't the same without ya! Your parents will have to share ya with us again from now on." He laughed at his own joke in the same way he always would. Nose wrinkling on one side whilst baring his teeth just slightly and his eyes squinting shut. The charm of that action had Sniper almost completely distracted from the fact that he actually had to correct the runner there, but given his enthusiasm and Sniper's inability to break it, the marksman decided to keep the bad news to himself for just a bit longer. For Scout's sake.

Nodding to Scout's words with a gentle smile, the marksman confirmed the request. He was actually quite glad seeing something like this happen, being taken away from this lonely place. Even though he wasn't real close to any of his colleagues (besides Scout) and he _did_ prefer living outside of the base in a camper, everything was better than this. The daily reminder of being in the house that actually _shouldn't_ be his childhood home and the fact that basically nearly thirty years of his life had been a lie wasn't what he needed right now.

The sudden crunching sound of something being crushed had Sniper realising that a certain drug induced syringe was still very much present (even though in tiny little pieces right now) underneath his boot. Seeing that Scout had picked up the strange noise as well, by means of suddenly stopping and looking back at the Aussie with a concentrated look, Sniper thought quickly and kicked the pieces into the dark hallway behind him. He tried to do it rather casual, but try to act _cool_ while doing such a stupid movement with your leg.

"What was that?"

"Oh err nothin'." The marksman replied quickly, walking on to follow Miss Pauling towards her car. Though as he noticed Scout not immediately following him, he placed a hand on the small of Scout's back and urged him onwards. "C'mon, mate, no need to stay behind, there ain't no ghosts here. It was probably a rat or somethin'." Sniper knew that would manage to get Scout moving. He remembered Scout once telling him he _hated_ rats, who knew it would end up being useful information after all?

"Ew, alright fine _fine._ " The runner answered, suddenly quickening his pace by _just_ a notch. Sniper chuckled seeing that, Scout was still trying to be the hard - bitten person he really _wasn't_.

"By the way, where are your parents?" The question hit Sniper so out of the blue, it nearly caused a concussion. He hadn't really counted on Scout asking him that, by all means he never expected Scout to even _remember_ anything he told him. He didn't think he'd be _important_ enough for that, but hey... turns out he was.

"They.. they ain't here right now." Was all Sniper said before looking over to the younger man walking next to him. The runner hadn't expected such a short answer and that was clearly visible in his expression.

"W-where are they? Snipes, are you okay..?"

"Yeah!" He tried in a futile attempt to save his skin. "I'll explain it later to ya, what about that?" Scout's expression lit up a bit as he nodded at that. Hearing Sniper say they'll talk later convinced him that nothing in what they previously had had been lost over the past few months and that made him real fucking happy.

Right before they left through the front door, Scout nudged Sniper's side to get his attention. Looking up the two stupidly smiled at each other before Scout said:

"I'm real glad to see ya Snipes."

"Same here, mate, same here."

\--


	4. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sappy crap bro, like how should I call it? Sap without plot? Probably

It sure was quite the work. Moving your entire life not only into a little two bed roomed apartment but across the country as well, wasn't an everyday task. After four years of actively fighting at Fortress, the war had _finally_ come to an end. No more briefcases, no more control points, their role in that part of history was over and now it was time for these nine ex - mercenaries to start up a new life in a place entirely different from how things were at Mann co.

No more isolation from society, no longer were they tied to the same schedule every single day, that same schedule that had made them _immortal_ in the start. Now, they were as fragile as any human being walking this earth. Strangely terrifying that is.

Though despite that, despite having to say goodbye to four years of their lives, most of them had already managed to move on and that's why they were here, moving boxes into this cosy two bed roomed apartment located in central New York. The place that would soon become the new home of Fortress' most unsuspected couple; Sniper and Scout.

The reason why they had decided to go live in New York rather than Boston or, hell, Australia was because they had both decided to start a life together someplace they hadn't been before. Their pasts were tied to the land they had spend their youth, so they knew their present and unwritten future were bound to be somewhere else. It had been an easy decision and the fact that _most_ of their teammates lived rather close by had been one great push in the back as well.

Because after all, they still felt as some sort of close and mostly _weird_ family to each other.

"Sol be careful with that, alright?" Scout warned when he handed the patriot two cardboard boxes filled with CD's and other fragile crap that was probably questionable to leave in Soldier's custody for the time being. Soldier firmly nodded, before marching off towards the building that housed the apartment with the two boxes towered on top of each other in his arms. The runner smiled at the sight, lightly shaking his head and ignoring that little sting of sadness that coursed through him at the realisation that soon he wouldn't see those dorks on a daily basis anymore. Don't get him wrong, he was dying to start this new journey with Sniper, but he'd also be lying if he said that leaving this mayor part of his life behind left him rather sad.

Shooing those thoughts away with a big sigh, Scout grabbed hold of a box to the brim filled with books (mostly Sniper's) and followed Soldier into the building. Their apartment was on the seventh floor and unfortunately for them, the one closet like elevator present had a malfunction and was entirely unable to be used. So for the past _hours_ everybody had been climbing stairs and undoubtedly losing pounds with this brain numbing task of grabbing one or two boxes and bringing them upstairs before doing it _all_ over again.

Luckily for them, however, they were quite used to doing repetitive work.

"How many boxes still to go, love?" The marksman asked when Scout entered the apartment, putting his box down on the kitchen counter before turning towards Sniper who was putting and rearranging mugs into one of the dark grey cabinets mounted against the wall. The sight made him smile, a big grin spreading from ear to ear. Seeing Sniper do something that wasn't cleaning a gun or sharpening a knife had been rather rare back at fortress, but now he was going to see the marksman do all kinds of _domestic_ things every single day. That piece of information was already too much to bear, he had to force it to the side to be able to answer, else his freaking heart was going to physically explode.

"Like... four - five maybe. Basically one more trip up an' down an' we're good."

"Heavy will do!" The Russian offered as he walked by, immediately changing his walking course and disappearing out of the apartment to go get the remaining boxes out of Sniper's RV. That was convenient, now Scout could finally help the other's with giving everything a right place in this soon to be home. Everybody was in a different room fulfilling a useful task, with Medic and Demo putting stuff away in the bathroom, Soldier and Pyro tidying up the living room, Heavy currently fetching the last boxes and Spy and Engineer emptying boxes in the bedroom. They were working as a team, like they had grown accustomed to over the years and as Scout took a good look around he realised that... this was the _last_ time they'd ever form a team together.

God damn it there was that heavy feeling again.

He swallowed thickly, needing to gather every ounce of determination to force those thought to the back of his mind. He quickly grabbed the box from the kitchen counter and walked over to a dark brown oak bookshelf, starting to arrange the books in just the way he wanted them. Wasting his time on putting them in alphabetical order made not thinking about the dire reality surrounding this a bit easier.

Once he got to the letter "t", placing "To Kill a Mockingbird" on the shelf, he felt a hand ruffle his hair and heard a low voice soothingly talking to him.

"You alright?"

"Yeah!" Scout was quick to answer, rising from his squatting position and smiling broadly, going a bit overboard with trying to convince Sniper that everything was indeed _just_ fine. The quirk in Sniper's smile really said enough, he wasn't to be fooled by Scout's weak attempts to lie, so the runner tried to change the subject and sail as far away from any of this as he possibly could. "Is there still a lotta work to do?"

"No, besides some details here and there I think nearly everythin' is done." Scout unwillingly clenched his jaw, a light sting coursing through him as Sniper said that. It probably wasn't long anymore until there wasn't anything left to do and once that happened, denying his thoughts was going to be a whole lot more difficult.

"Ah sweet, once this place is a bit dressed up it's really gonna be somethin'." Right as it seemed that Sniper was going to repeat his first question, Spy and Engineer entered the room. They had been the last two to finish up their given task and now also _they_ were done.

Everyone was gathered in the living room part of the apartment, all silently admiring the place and smiling at the successful day. Scout knew it was time, right now the situation was far past being able to pretend so he put the box back down and joined the rest of the team. They shared a last talk, a last laugh, being able to fill up a few _hours_ with just that, but eventually the stories had run out and they all knew it was time to go.

The first ones to leave were Medic and Heavy, both proudly smiling at the pair and hugging them closely, wishing them the best of luck. Medic had told them to take great care of themselves, he hadn't put so much effort in fixing all those broken bones only for them to ruin it all again now. Though that had been a joke, well... _most_ of it had been.

The next group of people to say their goodbye's were Soldier, Demo and Pyro and Scout had to admit that saying bye to one of his best buddies, because honestly he didn't really know where Pyro was going to go from here, hurt more than he had expected. Hugging the fire bug close, a lump formed in his throat and as he waved the three of them goodbye he bit the inside of his cheek harshly as to not start crying.

He reminded himself that this wasn't the _actual_ end. They were still going to see each other, but right now, as he watched them all go, Scout found little comfort in those thoughts.

The last two to stay were Engineer and Spy. Scout knew without a doubt that saying goodbye to Engineer was not only going to be hard on him, but on Sniper as well. Engineer had been the marksman's friend from the very start, even when no one bothered to get to know the weird introvert living in a RV away from the rest, the Texan had set out to introduce himself and ever since, the hardhat held a special place in Sniper's heart, but it was equal to Scout. When Fortress began Scout had _no_ idea who his father was and even less of an idea that his very own father had been hired to fight in that war as well. But there had always been Engineer to rely on. Even when Spy eventually confessed to his mistake, Engineer had been right there to support the runner and help him realise that there was no harm in having a grudge against Spy, but that giving him a second chance would _really_ help him digest that trauma.

To Scout, Engineer had become some sort of father as well, so now it was time to say goodbye to _both_ his dads.

"Scout, can I talk to you for a moment?" Spy suddenly asked as Engineer was occupying the marksman by telling him to give him a call whenever something was wrong and that he'd drop _anything_ to be able to help them.

Scout followed the Frenchman towards the other side of the living room, now standing at the window looking out on the streets beneath them. It took a bit before Spy started to talk, the way he occasionally took in a sharp breath giving away how much he was inertly contemplating his words.

"I just wanted to tell you that... I am _very_ proud of you." Spy eventually said, this half smile on his face. "I know I have not exactly made things easy for you over the past years, but seeing you move on with your life like this and seeing how much you have grown, it makes me realise how lucky I am to be able to call you my son." Scout was dumbfounded by what Spy was telling him and what surprised him more was the look on his face as he explained himself. Spy tried _so hard_ to smile and hide every bit of discomfort beneath a mask, but that notorious mask was slipping away, showing Scout how emotional all of this was making his father. Never had he felt so close to Spy before as right now, so he hugged him and hugged him tight.

"I'm actually gonna miss not havin' you 'round every day..." His eyes were filling themselves with tears, finally admitting to the feelings he had been fighting all day already. Surely when he felt Spy hug him back, for a second there it really felt like a normal father son moment, a moment the runner had been hoping for since he was a child. Standing there, feeling all those things and being overloaded with a million different sensations, Scout found himself brave enough to say; "I love you dad.."

"And I love you too, Jeremy." They departed from the hug, smiling at each other's tear filled gazes before Scout nudged him in the sight half heartedly commenting that he shouldn't be crying, which was funny coming from the guy who had a stuffed nose and red eyes of his own.

After Engineer had given a proper goodbye speech to Scout as well, they shared one last hug before it was really time to go. Once that door fell shut and only Sniper and Scout remained, the marksman gathered his boyfriend into his arms, kissed Scout on the head and assured him that they would see them back soon as the runner's defence mechanisms finally faltered and he started to cry. He wasn't particularly sad, just really exhausted and emotionally drained after that day.

New beginnings always ask the most out of you, but in hindsight they are _always_ worth it.

\--


	5. Cloudy With a Chance of Fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God that fucking tittle though

The soft and rhythmic pitter-patter of something hitting the roof of the RV in a hypnotic manner stirred Scout awake from his deep sleep. Sitting up, the runner peered around him, eyes half lidded threatening to fall close again and resume the blissful sleeping he had been doing moments before. As drowsy as he was, however, Scout forced himself to stay awake, wanting nothing more than to know what that annoying sound was and how he would be able to make it stop.

Next to him Sniper didn't seem to be disturbed by the noise, the marksman just continued his sleep, gently snoring and occasionally sighing deeply and grunting whenever he shifted a bit in the little space they slept in. Smiling down at the sight, Scout lightly ran his hand through Sniper's hair before climbing out of the bunk bed when the pitter-patter became harsher and started to get out of rhythm too. It was getting unbearably annoying, making Scout wonder how the hell Sniper managed to sleep through that, but in his experience, when Sniper was in an _actual_ deep sleep a goddamn _bomb_ could explode right next to him that bastard wouldn't move a muscle.

Stretching once he climbed down from the bunk, the runner looked down at himself frowning for a moment when he didn't recognize the sweater he was wearing. Though as he gave his mind the time to catch up he realised that this was Sniper's sweater which Scout had rightfully claimed as his own after the marksman had given a comment about how it had become too small for him to wear. It wasn't anything special, just a dark grey hooded sweater with "Australia" spelled out in big white letters on the chest. The piece of clothing was _still_ a little too big for Scout, but frankly that wasn't going to stop him from wearing it, no sir.

The camper was still rather dim, with little parts and corners covered by thick shadows, yet the path before the runner was illuminated enough for him to stomp towards the window (which was about the only light source right now) and see what unholy thing was going on outside for there to be such an agitating noise. 

The sight he was met with left him startled. Outside a threatening grey sky in which vast clouds had swallowed the sun greeted him whilst thick raindrops were falling to the ground with such a rush, a group of people hysterically running around would match the chaotic sight. Now the weather wasn't exactly what had him reacting like that, he was a Boston boy rain wasn't anything _new_ to him, it was more the _location_ where this storm was manifesting itself that had Scout cocking up an eyebrow for. Rain... in _New Mexico_? He would be lying if he said they'd never experienced some rain every once in a blue moon, but still. Whenever it _did_ happen Scout had to remind himself that barren deserts had weather like this too and not only dry, humid air with the unmistakably relentless beats of sunshine there to hammer you down.

"Scout?" A slightly slurred, sleep invested voice was heard from somewhere behind him, causing the runner to turn around. There, sitting upright now in his bunk bed, Sniper was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before blinking a few times to find some focus. Scout smirked at that, a tired Sniper was always _such a sight_ to see. Hair al ruffled, begs underneath those tired grey eyes and an expression telling everyone that he was not yet ready for their bullshit. Also the marksman trying to keep some sort of focus whilst not wearing his glasses in way of _constantly_ either blinking or rubbing his eyes was another amusing something to add to the rest. Though most of all was it cute, Sniper _wasn't_ a morning person and the way he acted right after he had just woken up was, for whatever reason, very charming to the runner.

"What are ya doin' up already? It's six in the bloody mornin' and that on a Sunday too."

"It's rainin' like hell outside, Snipes."

"Christ Scout, if it would be rainin' gold bars I'd understand the commotion. This ain't anythin' worth wakin' up for." The marksman had already laid himself back down, that alone serving as enough of an invite for Scout to do the same. Chuckling to himself, Scout walked back to the bunker, climbed up into the bed and nuzzled himself in between the wall and Sniper, head partly resting on the marksman's chest before being gathered into Sniper's arms and relaxing. The Aussie had probably expected that that would have been the end of it. Telling Scout that it really wasn't that big of a deal only to continue sleeping soundly as if he had never woken up in the first place, but to Scout's dismay the sound of rain hitting the roof of the RV hadn't stopped, as a matter of fact it had only gotten worse and since that had been the _main_ reason why he had woken up, it sure wasn't going to get him to sleep now.

"How the hell do ya sleep through that? I mean, I'm used to the sound of rain hittin' a window, which is fine, but this is just fuckin' annoyin'."

"It's honestly fine to me." Sniper grumbled, voice thick. "I've had this camper for more than ten years now, pretty thin walls ya get used to bein' able to hear the littlest sounds. If someone would drop a needle outside I'd be able to hear, that's how thin these bloody walls are."

"Still," Scout pouted slightly, meanwhile hugging Sniper a bit closer. "even Soldier with his stupid trumpet don't make such noise an' his room is next to mine an' the walls in the base ain't exactly five feet thick, y'know?" Sniper had gotten the hint, Scout wasn't going to fall back asleep anytime soon and now that they'd been talking for a while, the marksman was awake enough to handle this. Shifting his position, yet again sitting upright, he felt the runner settle more against him and sighing rather blissfully afterwards. One of his hands continued to rub comforting circles up and down Scout's back while the other held the arm draped over Sniper's tummy, his thumb soothingly caressing Scout's smooth skin there. Maybe if he got the runner to fully relax he'd slip into a good sleep later on.

"Why do the noises annoy ya so much?"

"I dunno..." The runner murmured against the white shirt Sniper wore as a pyjama. "Guess it's the tickin' that really freakin' _ticks_ me off."

"Well, how about ya try to not think of it as just random tickin'? Close your eyes and try to find a rhythm in the way the raindrops hit the roof, like - like some sort of drum calmly playin'. The steadier the better, it'll help ya drift off, promise." Deciding that there was literally _no harm_ in following Sniper's advice, the runner closed his eyes as he concentrated on the rain. It took a while for Scout's mind to find _any_ pattern in the noises that had agitated him greatly beforehand, but eventually, after some trial and error, Scout had found a rhythm. It became steadier the longer he concentrated on it and soon enough Sniper's words seemed to be true. Though he knew that _just that_ wasn't going to be enough to drag him under.

"Hey Snipes?"

"Hm?" Came as reply, the low hum vibrating in the marksman's throat. Scout loved that voice, surely in the morning.

"Can ya just... _talk_ to me for a bit? It ain't important 'bout what, just... talk 'till I fall asleep, please..?"

"Alright." A soft kiss was placed on the crown of his head, having Scout marvel at the feel of it. "It ain't exactly bad that it's rainin', I think. Means we get to spend the entire day here, just the two of us. We can do whatever ya want, as long as ya don't drag me outside for somethin'." The distraction of asking Sniper for that favour had Scout losing the steady rhythm he had found for a bit, though not for very long and when Sniper's talking got combined by the soft drumming Scout realised it was all working like a _charm_ and not soon after he had fallen asleep. "Maybe we can finally watch that movie you've been wantin' to see for so long or listen' to some music, whatever sooths ya love, whatever sooths ya."

Maybe after five minutes of talking, Sniper finally noticed soft sighs escaping Scout on every exhale and the _immensely_ steady rise and fall of the runner's chest. The runner had _finally_ fallen back asleep and if the marksman had to be honest, having Scout sleeping right next to (hell partly even on) him was one of his favourite feelings in the entire world. Scout was one if his favourite _people_ to be with, as a matter of fact, nearly anything they did together had Sniper's lonely little heart thumping with excitement.

Leaning down to plant another kiss on the runner's head, Sniper found himself brave enough to whisper the three words he had never dared to say before.

"I love ya." Sniper mumbled against those soft light brown locks, exposing how he _really_ felt, but only when the runner was totally unaware of it.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole drabble is just two bros being dudes, napping together, borrowing each other's clothes, whispering I love you when the other can't hear like it's a fucking teen romcom movie, it's not gonna get more manly than that bro, I swear


	6. Dyscalculia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summary of this drabble is basically: I'm gay and I can't do Maths, that's it, that's the story

Sniper sat silently in his RV, reading the paper and solving the daily crossword puzzle, minding his own peaceful business as just a few feet away from him Scout was on the phone with an unknown person trying to settle something that clearly wasn't going without a hitch.

A few weeks back Scout had ordered a new baseball jersey, well new maybe wasn't the right word to use because it was an exact copy of the one he already owned but needed replaced because it was getting old and worn out and two days ago it had _finally_ arrived. Excitedly Scout had torn open the cardboard box right there on the spot, chanting a litany of "Oh man, oh man!" as he removed the foam inside and held up his brand new jersey.

Only problem; it said _White_ Sox instead of Red Sox.

Sniper had never seen Scout's expression falter like that. Within a single instant, Scout's countenance darkened and his mood fell down deeply, because how was that possible? How could they mess up something _this easy_? There was no way in hell that Scout had ordered a _White Sox jersey_! Are you crazy? Mental?! This was a disgrace, an _insult_ to his own home city, it was downright _rude_ and disrespectful! What did these people think? That he'd settle for anything _less_ than a Red Sox jersey? Did these fuckers even _know the difference_? Probably not! Amateurs! They're all-

Scout's mouth had ran a mile a minute, not even bothering to breathe in between his bickering and onslaught of why everyone who even _touched_ that package was a fucking idiot, even though he was literally holding it himself.

He was so unbelievably mad and Sniper couldn't really say he understood why. It was just an honest mistake, human error, it happens and besides, who's to say Scout didn't make the mistake himself? But that was something the marksman didn't dare to bring up.

And now two days later Scout was on the phone, stubbornly trying to get his order changed or get his money back, but apparently it wasn't really going as well as the runner had hoped it would.

"What do ya mean- wait listen up, man I- hey! Seriously let me speak dude what the fuck!" The outburst caught Sniper's attention, now watching Scout angrily ball his hand into a fist as he leaned his own head into his hand to watch the little show.

Scout was an adult, perfectly capable of handing himself and sometimes it was just _a lot_ of fun to watch him.

"Listen up pal, I don't care 'bout your fuckin' policies! There's been a mistake an' I want ma fuckin' money back!" He jabbed a finger into the speaker as if he were prodding it in someone's chest and it had Sniper stifle a laugh, surely when Scout suddenly rolled his eyes so hard they threatened to fall out of their sockets. Apparently the guy's reply had been everything Scout didn't want to hear.

"Stop yellin'? You call this yellin'? I'm only _talkin' loudly_ 'cause this shit doesn't seem to get into your fuckin' head if I ask nicely!" This time Sniper couldn't help himself, a single loud laugh escaped him before he covered his mouth and got himself back under control. With amusement written all over his face, Sniper looked back at Scout who didn't really seem to appreciate Sniper's... _support_ and casually flipped him off. There were just certain things, certain words or sentences that could _only ever_ come out of Scout's mouth and Sniper loved it.

"Look man, we've been on the phone for like an hour, aren't you gettin' fuckin' tired of this 'cause I sure am! How fuckin' difficult is it to just refer me to some other dick who _can_ actually help me, huh?" A silence followed in which Scout tipped his foot in irritation, looking more vexed than ever, but alas his expression lit up just a little as he gestured to Sniper to grab a pen and quickly write something down.

"Yeah yeah, finally! So what's the number?" Scout nodded his head, closely listening to the voice on the other side of line before repeating his words and once again gesturing that Sniper _had_ to write this down. "Two hundred and two, yeah, five hundred fifty five, okay alright an' zero, one hundred sixty nine. Alright cool! Thanks man!" And quickly after that Scout rather unceremoniously hung up. Sniper hadn't exactly expected Scout to extensively thank this guy after the tumult that was the last hour, but those two had been worthy opponents to one another.

"Ya got the number?"

"Sure did." Sniper replied, pointing out the upper right corner of the paper where he'd written down 202 - 555 - 0196.

"Ah sweet! You're the best!" Scout exclaimed, quickly giving Sniper a peck on the cheek before grabbing the phone, ready to dial the new number. But suddenly a silence fell and Sniper watched one of Scout's eyebrows quirking a bit higher than the other.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"Yeah no," He cautiously stammered. "it's just... y'know ya wrote it down incorrectly, right?"

Sniper frowned at the paper beneath him and then at Scout. "Why did ya want me writin' it down when you'd remember anyway?"

"Not the point Snipes." Scout defended sarcastically. "Ma point right now is that the I said the number was two zero two, five five five, zero one _six nine_ , not nine six."

"Oh," Sniper offhandedly spoke, shrugging one shoulder as he went to correct his mistake. "well that's what ya get for givin' me full on numbers when you're talkin' 'bout a phone number. You didn't say zero one six nine, ya said zero one hundred sixty nine."

"Hey that's just how that guy said it, I was merely a messenger, Snipes."

"Lemme guess, just another _victim of circumstances_?" Sniper grinned, eyes half lidded behind his glasses.

"Always." Scout replied, sitting down in the chair opposite from Sniper. "But hey, quick question Snipes."

"Shoot."

"Do you like, have that a lot?" Scout asked, fumbling with the phone in his hands.

"Have what a lot?"

"Like, y'know, messin' up numbers like that when someone gives ya a full on number and doesn't give 'em one by one?" Sniper frowned again, not really knowing what to do with that question. It was odd to say the least, just because he'd written down one mistake?

"I dunno, love. What does it matter?"

Scout's smile grew and Sniper recognized the sparks of mischief in his sky blue eyes. Oh boy this wasn't good. "Just, y'know ma brother Freddy he did the same thing. He'd switch up numbers and also did that with like mathematical characters in a calculation durin' maths. He was horrible at it, even if ya asked him easy things like five plus seven or six plus nine he was simply unable to give a quick answer , like he always needed a moment to seriously think 'bout it. Eventually it got so bad that ma had 'em tested an' turns out he had somethin' called dyscalculia. It's a learnin' disorder, y'know the polar opposite of dyslexia."

"Alright?" Sniper awkwardly replied and cleared his throat afterwards. "Seems like a real hassle, alright, but err.. what has that to do with me?" 

"Well, I think you might have it too, Snipes."

"What?" Sniper asked exasperated. "That's ridiculous, Scout! Just 'cause I made one mistake, doesn't mean I have some undiscovered learnin' disorder." He shook his head at the thought alone, the suggestion of it already absurd to his own ears. Alright maybe maths hadn't always been his favourite subject back in elementary school and middle school and high school and _ever_ , but that's something _a lot_ of people could relate too. After all, it _is_ a difficult subject, it isn't that uncommon to struggle with it. Never mind all the late nights he'd spend with his mother trying to finish his maths homework only to fail anyway afterwards, it isn't _anything_ close to having a learning disorder! Scout was being ridiculous.

"Snipes I won't lie to ya, but I've kind a been _noticin'_ stuff like this. Like how ya always go out of your way to avoid _anythin'_ that's remotely 'bout calculatin' or countin' and if you _can't_ avoid it you never just calculate it or do it without the use of a calculator an' besides you _told_ me before that maths wasn't exactly easy for ya back in high school when I told ya 'bout ma dyslexia so yeah, I mean you ain't exactly _subtle_ 'bout it, babe."

Sniper slightly bristled at that comment, eyebrows twitching in unease. "Don't you have more... pressin' things to handle right now?"

"Nah, that can wait." Scout leaned his head in both hands, mischievously staring down Sniper from across the table. "Y'know it ain't a _shame_ to have a learnin' disorder, Snipes. Like I told ya before I have dyslexia _an'_ ADHD, you can probably imagine that school wasn't exactly ma friend."

Sniper silently scoffed, leaning back in his chair as he matched Scout's gaze. "Well if ya were so sure 'bout it, then why didn't ya ask me sooner?"

"I dunno, maybe 'cause we both know you're a stubborn ass an' I never really had _evidence_ before, but even now when I do ya don't believe me so, let's say I didn't wanne waste ma breath, y'know?" Sniper shook his head again as he got up to get some coffee, muttering something of the likes that he couldn't really believe him sometimes and that Scout really should start using his time more efficiently instead of wasting it all on him.

"You're unbelievable."

"I know." Scout responded proudly, _clearly_ getting his rocks off by teasing Sniper. A silence fell where Scout just kept watching him prepare his coffee when suddenly the runner spoke: "Hey Snipes."

"Yeah?"

"What's five plus seven?" That question hit him like a brick, catching him so off guard that all Sniper's logical thinking fled him like mice on a sinking ship. His grey eyes focused on Scout's grinning face waiting for his mind to start back up and this literal information loss to pass.

" _Twelve_!" He suddenly blurted out after shamefully having to break it apart in his head to get to the solution. He firmly set his cup back down, clearly more bothered by this than he actually wanted to let on. "T-that's unfair! Ya caught me off guard, I wasn't prepared."

"Oh so if I asked another one _right now_ when you're _perfectly aware_ that I'm goin' to ask ya to calculate somethin', you'll be ready?"

Sniper gave that a thought but there wasn't much to think about, being the stubborn ass Scout had claimed he was, Sniper wasn't about to give in this easily. So he nodded his head, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"R-reckon I could, yeah."

Scout's eyes lit up at the challenge. "Okay big guy, tell me, what's eight plus seven."

And the thing is even now when Sniper was indeed prepared for a question as such, his mind once again shut itself completely off like it _always_ did when he was forced to calculate something in his head. It was like nothing but a bottomless pit remained once someone asked him something as _easy_ as eight plus seven. He couldn't help but to simply stare back at Scout, meanwhile _yet again_ having to break apart the easy equation to eventually give Scout a defeated answer after a silence that had been stretching for far too long. "Fifteen.."

He sighed deeply, this was rather embarrassing. He always knew he had his troubles with maths, but he never knew it was _this bad_.

Scout noticed Sniper's sudden change in mood and immediately back peddled on his behaviour, taking his attitude down a notch as he watched Sniper slump back down into his chair with a certain look in his eyes that Scout recognized alright.

He felt embarrassed.

"Hey c'mon Snipes, I didn't mean it like that!" Scout spoke up, rising from his chair in one swift motion and strolling over to where Sniper was seated to sit down on the marksman's lap. "It's fine, babe, promise. I mean I can't read an' you can't count, it's a perfect balance." That little over exaggeration did manage a smile on Sniper's face and Scout saw that as his window of opportunity to cup either side of the marksman's face and look him right in the eyes. "I didn't mean to upset you. It was just good ol' teasin' an' general concern for how you _ever_ managed to get through maths in school."

Sniper chuckled at that last comment, deciding to keep the truth that he actually just _hadn't_ gotten through maths at all, to himself. "You didn't, don't worry, love. I just _slightly_ feel like an idiot, is all."

"Aw," Scout cooed, placing a kiss to the corner of Sniper's mouth. "alright look it's like _super_ okay, we just make sure that _you_ do all the _language_ related stuff an' I do the finance an' number related stuff when we're older an' life together an' everythin' will be _just_ fine. It's perfect."

Sniper's smile grew hearing Scout including him in his future. Watching his eyes light up while talking about stuff like that, it was the true definition of blissful. It was _just_ great.

"Yeah," The marksman leaned up to peck Scout on the lips. "it's perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright little end note to maybe explain a bit? But for those of you who don't know, dyscalculia is a learning disorder which is very similar to dyslexia but with numbers. Basically; maths is a right fucking nightmare. You have a tendency to switch up numbers and mathematical characters during an equation or some other exercise and if anyone wonders whether those "seven plus five" and "eight plus seven" examples weren't a little of an exaggeration of the real deal, I can tell you from experience that it really isn't. Easy stuff like that is really difficult and whenever I'm asked to solve it similar like I showed in the drabble it's the exact same thing every time up to a point where I just learned a few of those by heart or have to make a few side calculations to get to something as easy as fifteen or twelve. (Really I am not pulling your tit here, it's really like that lmao) And once you go to higher numbers and longer exercises it's downright impossible to do without a calculator or without messing it up somewhere. So to anyone who might be reading this and happens to have dyscalculia or dyslexia yourselves, you're braver than any US Marine and I love you, I know all those evenings crying over unfinished and difficult homework was hard, but crap like that doesn't define you as a person. *mwah*   
> Also, the "I'm gay and can't do maths" meme is literally one of my favourite memes ever just because it's like... 100% me lmao


	7. Hazy Discomfort

Somewhere Scout had a slight inkling that Sniper was hiding something from him. Not some dark secret the marksman had been harbouring within himself for years or a fuck up he desperately tried to bury beneath a fake appearance, none of that. He probably didn't even know he was hiding it himself, Sniper had a tendency to _unintentionally_ hide his discomfort, but it'd become more prominent to Scout once he actually noticed it and since it appeared to be something medical, the runner did want to talk about it.

He didn't even really know what made him believe something was wrong in the first place, until he entered Sniper's RV one day after a refreshing shower and watched how the marksman was straining his eyes to read the paper, brow extremely furrowed as he fell into a constant combination of rubbing and blinking his eyes until he simply gave up, closed the damn thing and went on to greet his lover.

Sniper had also started complaining about random headaches he couldn't quite explain and the never ending feeling of heavy eyelids, but by that point the problem had already become pretty clear to Scout. Sniper needed glasses and not just shooting glasses, actual _proper_ prescription glasses.

Now how was he going to tell him that, without accidentally wounding his pride?

"Snipes?" Scout watched from where he was lying belly down on Sniper's couch how the marksman was cleaning his rifle or well, tried to at least. Usually Sniper was far more precise with the hygiene of his gun, but you can't clean what you can't see, _of course_.

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk 'bout somethin' real quick?"

"'course, love." The marksman spoke as he immediately laid his rifle on the table, nearly looking happy he didn't have to deal with that for a single moment. His brow finally relaxed as he turned towards Scout and a far more gentle expression suddenly painted his countenance. "What's up?"

Scout pushed himself into a different position, using that time to search for words and a doable approach. He was rather puzzled, a few unfinished sentences or things that could barely be considered words escaping him as one of Sniper's eyebrows rose just that bit higher every time they made eye contact. "It's just..." Scout eventually managed. "I was wonderin'.."

"About?" Sniper asked hesitantly, looking a little worried himself.

"Nothin' bad or somethin'!" Scout quickly clarified, suddenly reminding himself that this was starting to look rather suspicious. The silence, the hesitation, he didn't want Sniper to think he might want to break up with him or something. "I just wanted to ask ya somethin', _but_ ya have to promise me ya won't just shrug it off, alright?"

"Okay..?"

Scout fumbled with his grip tape and chewed his lip for a moment. "I - I've kind a noticed you've been strugglin' a bit with your eyesight lately an' I was wonderin' if you've actually noticed that too or not." It was silent for a moment, until suddenly Sniper's expression morphed into a rather confused grin and yet again a furrowed brow, looking as if he wanted to laugh or chuckle, but wasn't entirely sure if he was supposed to or not.

"Seriously? Scout, there's nothin' wrong with my eyes."

"Nothin' wrong? Oh, c'mon Snipes! See, you're already shruggin' it off!" Scout reproached quickly and loudly, losing the gentle way he originally wanted to go with this as this sudden determination to get his point across hit him like bag full of bricks. "Have ya seen yourself busy lately?" He sighed harshly when he wasn't met with an answer. "You've been avoidin' readin' all together, because it's been givin' ya a headache, right?"

"Y-yeah."

"Bad eyesight!"

"Scout, please, that's ridiculous." The runner crossed his arms over his chest as Sniper hit him with that empty argument.

"Ridiculous?" He deadpanned. "What 'bout hardly drivin' lately 'cos your eyelids felt so heavy?"

"Ya had to drive us to the city a few times, so what? I was just tired I guess." Scout rolled his eyes so hard, they threatened to fall out of their sockets, his expression turning wooden now as the marksman clearly wasn't listening to him.

"Oh ma God!" The runner rose from the couch and made a straight path towards the Australian, sitting on his lap and grabbing either side of Sniper's face to try and get his point across. "Snipes, I'm not tellin' ya this 'cos I wanne make some stupid joke 'bout you gettin' old. That's not even the case, so set your pride aside for just a second an' listen to me, alright?" Clearly not daring to do any different, the marksman nodded his head, a confused yet very amused smile setting across his face as he looked right back into Scout's bright blue eyes. "I love you an' I care 'bout you an' that's why I'm tellin' ya this. I've noticed a lot of things lately that tell me, yes even me, that your eyesight's gettin' worse, babe. Readin' gives ya a headache, ya don't trust yourself behind the wheel anymore an' cleanin' your gun ain't what it used to be an' ya know it. Ya clearly need glasses, probably only like readin' glasses, but ya really actually need 'em. This doesn't mean you're gettin' old, don't be ridiculous, alright? This just means that your eyes need a lil' help an' as long as ya stay so freakin' stubborn, you're only gonna tire 'em out even more." Scout gently pinched both his cheeks with his thumbs for a moment, deviously grinning afterwards. "Ya really think starin' through a pair of shootin' glasses _an'_ a scope isn't gonna fuck up your eyesight sooner or later? 'cause I do."

Sniper sighed, tired grey eyes averting for a moment, before travelling right back. "When did ya get so bloody smart, huh?" The runner ran a loving hand through Sniper's hair, before placing a gentle kiss at his temple.

"The real question is; how long where ya gonna try an' fool yourself?"

"I know, I know.." Sniper filled his arms with Scout's waste, momentarily resting his head on the runner's shoulder with a slight pout. "Guess I'll visit Medic one of these days then."

Scout smiled at the uncharacteristic murmur coming out of Sniper's mouth, hand still mindfully stroking the marksman's soft hair. "Ya promise?"

"I promise."

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this drabble exists, but hey I do love the thought of Sniper wearing regular glasses


	8. I Will Wait For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trans!Scout is foken superb

He wasn't exactly sure what had been the actual cause to wake him up, _surely_ because enough sensations were there to do the job. Maybe it had been the way Scout just couldn't seem to find a good position to sleep and tossed and turned as if his life depended on it or the way he sighed whenever there had been a silence for more than ten seconds. No matter what it was, Sniper could tell the runner was beyond restless and there was a high chance he knew why.

"Ya nervous?" Suddenly all the movement next to him had ceased, one sharp inhale telling Sniper that Scout hadn't exactly expected the marksman to be awake. Well that reaction had been an answer enough and as Sniper turned his head to look at the runner, all he was met with was a worried expression and two blue eyes intensely watching the sealing as if it was going to attack him once eye contact was broken. Eventually a deep sigh escaped Scout, gaze shifting slightly when he noticed Sniper looking at him.

"Did - did I wake ya..?"

"Don't worry about it." Sniper assured him, sitting up when he felt that this was going to be _more_ than just a midnight chat. "Ya thinkin' about tomorrow?"

"Yeah..." Scout whispered, taking advantage of Sniper changing his position in way of wrapping his arms around his chest and using Sniper as a pillow. "I just... I dunno what to expect..."

"Are ya scared?"

"Kinda... yeah.." Sniper understood his concerns, he wasn't about to have any normal surgery tomorrow, no. Tomorrow one of the final steps of Scout's long journey would kick off, a day he had been dying for for _so_ long, both out of excitement and stress. You see, Scout hadn't always been well... Scout. Years and hands full of different treatments back, Scout had made a confession to Sniper, something he had been struggling with for literal _years_. When Fortress began and everyone arrived knowing little else about each other besides a codename, a jovial _girl_ had introduced herself as "The Scout" and back then, at that moment, she had seemed fine.

But after months of getting to know one another, growing trust and a building friendship that quickly lead into a relationship, Scout _had_ to tell Sniper something that could have subverted everything they had and possibly even more. Shakily, with tears streaming down her face Scout confessed that she had never felt like a girl, she had been born in the _wrong_ body and after having a talk with Medic about it, she had been informed that, if she _wanted_ , a sex reassignment surgery could be set in motion, with successive psychological appointments to help her through it all. At that point, she had already said yes to Medic's proposal, so whether Sniper would be happy with it or not it _was_ happening. And truth be told, the marksman had needed some time in the start. Lots of questions had flickered up in his mind, though he knew there was little chance he'd ever get an answer to them.

After a while, however, Sniper realised something _crucial_. He didn't love Scout for her outlook or her body, no... he loved her character, her jokes and that goofy goddamn smile, things he _knew_ would never disappear and when everything started and Scout slowly transitioned into who _he_ really was, Sniper couldn't be more happy.

He had loved her, but truthfully, he loved _him_ more with every passing day.

"It ain't the operation itself that I'm scared of, it's more... like, Medic has warned me _lots_ now that it won't be an easy recovery afterwards..."

"Well, love, this entire journey hasn't exactly been easy on ya, has it?" Scout chuckled at that response, that little light hearted joke slowly unwinding Scout from his rigid behaviour as he felt him slip easier into Sniper's arms and the sweet embrace they shared. "Maybe it ain't that bad to look back at all the things you've already done. Remember the start? Step one had been nothin' more than a simple _hair cut_ and I still remember the day the doc finally put ya on that hormone treatment, ya couldn't sleep for two days out of pure excitement. With every step ya took, ya became so much happier, everything you've done so far were all things that helped ya with becommin' well... _you._ Imagine how you'll feel after tomorrow, yeah? Besides the difficult recovery maybe, you'll finally be who ya really are and I can imagine little will _ever_ beat that feelin', will it?"

"I know, I know." The runner yawned once after shooting Sniper a smile, eyes watering for a second before placing his head back onto the marksman's chest. "Will ya be there tomorrow when I wake up?"

"'course I'll be love, I've been here from the start, would hate to miss the endin'." A breathy laugh escaped Scout, one loud burst of laughter accompanied by a snort. Sniper may not be the best with words, but he _always_ knew how to make Scout laugh, no matter the circumstances. Another yawn escaped Scout, leading Sniper to believe that _maybe_ his frazzled nerves had been settled a bit, enough to hopefully get _some_ sleep before the big day that was tomorrow.

Scout lifted his head from Sniper's chest, leaning up to give the marksman a chaste kiss on the lips before wishing him a good night. Silently Scout told him how lucky he was to have him and how much he loved him and in the midst of yet another 'thank you' Scout had dozed off. Slowly stroking the runner's hair, hearing and feeling him breathe, all Sniper could think was how lucky _he_ was. All of this had been one rollercoaster ride full of emotions for the both of them, but not one part of him would have want to miss it. He very much liked the front row ticket he had been granted to witness all this and every passing day he thanked God for bringing Scout into his life.

Scout, the jovial _boy_ he loved more than anything in this goddamn world.

\--


	9. If It Weren't For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for descriptions of suicidal thoughts and just generally a very depressed vibe, but it does have a more positive ending so that's that

That day Sniper awoke slowly with a heavy feeling on his chest and a clouded head. Today was the day, after a long unforgiving year of nightmares, panic attacks, little sleep and pure trauma, the marksman had decided that he simply couldn't take it anymore. Today he was going to take his own life.

He already had a plan and everything; today after battle he'd drive out to the city and throw himself off one of those bridges overhead a highway. If he wasn't dead then, he was _never_ going to die. Sniper was just too fed up with everything. Today marked the anniversary of that one dreadful moment. The one moment that left him as this incomplete broken person sick of constantly walking against a wall, but the worst part about it is that Sniper _knew_ that he'd never be able to forget it.

And besides, he still had the scars to prove it anyway.

Those _ugly_ thick lines spider webbing his chest, crossing his arms and marking his shoulders. Every time he was forced to look at them his entire mood sunk as if two heavy stones had been dragging it right to the bottom of the sea. He knew that they indicated his survival, that they showed his struggle and the fight he had eventually won thanks to Medic, but looking at the past year, somewhere Sniper wished Medic had never been able to safe him. Every day there was this lingering thought telling him that this was, in no way, living a normal life. Every day that same voice told him he was better off _dead_ than having to constantly life through the same cycle of misery and denial. It had always been there, those thoughts. At first they were silent, easy to suppress. But after weeks they grew louder, impossibly loud, all but trying to drive Sniper to that _exact_ point he was right now.

He wanted to die, he was sick of it all, God he just wanted it to be over already.

Looking at himself in the mirror was becoming harder too. With every passing day this worn out version of himself appeared more clearly, stealing away one of his exteriors to hide how he really felt from the entire world. Dark circles appeared underneath his eyes and his skin was becoming at least a tint paler every week. He looked _old_ and tired and maybe that was just in his head, but the colour of his eyes was slowly fading as well. It was unfair. Sniper had never been a person without sin, but to be honest, he didn't understand why all this misfortune was being bestowed upon him. He _wasn't_ a bad person, yet he was living the consequences of a criminal.

_Just one more day_ , Sniper told himself as he exited his RV and walked towards respawn. One more battle, only one more day of pretending and ignoring his teammates before he'd be able to do what he had been thinking about for so long now. He wasn't scared, but neither was he happy or _relieved_. Truthfully Sniper didn't feel a thing. There was nothing left inside him, eventually just living through his days like a ghost with a beating heart.

"Hi there slim!" Engineer's voice startled Sniper greatly, quickly looking around himself with a guilty look as if his thoughts were readable, floating above his head or something. Eventually his eye fell on the little Texan walking out his way, a broad smile spreading from ear to ear and somewhere Sniper was jealous of that. He knew it was bitter of him, unfair, but sometimes he just wished he was the one smiling like that.

"Truckie." Sniper answered and tipped his hat to accompany the response. "How ya doin'?"

"I'm doin' just fine! How 'bout you, son? Ya look a bit tired."

This wasn't the first time someone commented on his outlook, the dark circles underneath his eyes really said enough, but instead of stuttering a response like he did in the start, Sniper had grown used to lying to every curious person questioning the tiredness radiating off of him. "Fine, I'm just glad it's Friday. Ya know, with a weekend to enjoy." Engineer nodded, the smile returning to his lips after that weak lie had unknowingly comforted him. People were _so easy_ to fool.

"Ya got anythin' planned, slim?"

_No, because I won't have a weekend_ , is what Sniper wanted to say, but instead he just shook his head and said "no" purposely not returning the question because he wasn't feeling like participating in this conversation anymore. The sad thing was that Sniper really liked Engineer, the Texan was a good man with a big heart, he never felt good lying to him so he'd rather stop now instead of having to look at the hardhat and constantly experience that deep rooted feeling of guilt.

The battle wore on slowly and as the day progressed Sniper believed it was _never_ going to end. Finally, however, it did and as the marksman made his descend down the nest and walked back to respawn to return his weapons an unpleasant feeling rose in his gut. It wasn't that long anymore and to his surprise, stress was calmly creeping up on him, suddenly very aware of what he was about to do.

"Hey yo Snipes!" The marksman harshly closed his locker upon hearing his youngest teammate call out for him. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to look any of his colleagues in the eyes with the knowledge that it would be the last time he ever saw them. Taking a deep breath, Sniper turned around to see what the hell the runner wanted from him. "Snipes I need your help, man!" He exclaimed the moment he noticed Sniper's eyes on him. "Ma freakin' dump of a car broke down an' I _really_ need to be in the city tonight."

_Shit,_ Sniper thought. _That's where I was headed_. He gave the runner a hesitant look over, hoping against all odds that _maybe_ Scout was going to ask him something else or at least ask him to take the runner there on another day.

"And?"

"I know I'm askin' ya for a big favour here, but can ya _please_ take me there? Dude, I really have to go I can't wait 'till Engie fixes ma stupid car." The marksman let the different solutions to this roll around his head. He couldn't possibly still go on with this if Scout was there, right? Then again, if the runner needed to be someplace else he could always just let him go and proceed as planned. He knew that was cruel, but... he had no other options, at least, he didn't _see_ any other.

He agreed to the runner's request and not long after the two were seated inside Sniper's RV headed for the city that was easily a three hour drive away. The marksman was beyond any state to make proper conversation, but luckily for him it was _Scout_ sitting in the passenger seat. The runner didn't need a collocutor, Scout was perfectly able to run a one man show as long as Sniper grunted from time to time as the barest form of a response.

Though he had to admit, Scout's talking was doing a marvellous job distracting him. Believe it or not, he was actually listening to what the runner was saying, finding himself nearly forgetting about the cruel thing he was about to do. That was a first. 

"Ya can just let me out here, alright? Just don't move the van 'cause else I won't be able to find ya later. I dunno how long it'll take, but I promise it won't be much longer than an hour." That was perfectly fine for Sniper. An hour was more than enough for Scout to be as far away from this as he could be and the place where the kid had ordered him to stop was fairly close to one of those bridges. All he had to do was climb it.

Sniper nodded to what Scout had said, a thick wave of nausea crashing over him as the runner climbed out the RV and darted down the road, vanishing out of sight. Sniper clenched his jaw tightly, hands balling into fists and his whole entire body trembled slightly from stress and fear. His chest ached, it itched, reminding him of those godforsaken scars underneath the fabric of his polo, reminding him of the reason _why_ he was here.

He was doing this for himself. All his life he had felt alone, carrying the burden of this trauma with him all on his own, so why would he suddenly worry about what others were going to feel?

Swallowing thickly, the marksman left the RV, leaving it unlocked for Scout to drive back later. Hopefully the runner knew how to drive manually, but that was a stupid worry to have right now. Every step he took felt as if heavy rocks were hanging at his feet, gaining weight with every movement he made forward. It was a struggle, but eventually he got to the highest point, throat clenching at the sight of a dark highway filled with car lights speeding by.

His mind started to race. A million different thoughts demanding attention, but all he could think about was that cold water, the shredding feeling of those bullets puncturing his skin and that _awful_ floating feeling afterwards. The darkness, he remembered the darkness and that utterly cold and lonesome feeling following suit. He had heard voices all around him, heard his colleagues panic when he got shot, but besides that there had been little else for him to do. He wasn't asleep, but neither had he been awake.

But then he had suddenly heard _those_ voices. He had opened his eyes only to wake up in the lightest place he had ever seen in his life. He didn't hear his colleagues' voices any longer, instead a peaceful silence had hit him like a wall of nothing, allowing him to sit up and look around. He had heard it again, a familiar female voice calling out for him and then another familiar _male_ voice following it. After all that time he had spend in pure nothingness, this was a whole new sensation. This place was light and silent, safe from the two voices coaxing him to come their way.

And so he did.

His eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as he had been met with the sight of both his parents, alive and well right before himself. Sniper had hugged them close, remembered how they spoke to him and told him how proud they were, but what he remembered most was their reaction when he begged them to stay. He didn't want to leave them, but apparently it hadn't been his time yet.

But now it was, Sniper told himself. Thinking back at that moment, all those different feelings consuming him and spitting him back out afterwards, tears filled his eyes. All the things he truly wanted were so far out of reach, it hurt to think about. Sniper wanted the nightmares to stop, wanted to stop hyperventilating because his mind just couldn't let it go, but most of all, Sniper just wanted out.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, jaw clenching tighter than ever before as he took hold of the railing before him. The cold of the metal send a shiver down his spine, but feeling himself actually moving to climb over it was what really had his blood running cold.

On the anniversary of the day he got shot to _death_ , Sniper told himself he was going to die.

But right as he was about to swing one of his legs over the railing, he felt two arms snaking around his waist and the feeling of someone hugging him close. The movement was so unexpected, it nearly had Sniper's heart jolting from his chest as he forced himself to act as casual as he could. His entire body grew rigid, praying to everything that was holy that whoever it was embracing him hadn't picked up on what he was doing.

"I managed to get it done rather quickly!" He suddenly heard Scout say. Hearing the runner's casualness lead the marksman to believe he actually _hadn't_ picked up on the situation. That realisation enough to make him a whole lot lighter already. Scout was a rather affectious person on his own, it was a regular occurrence for him to hand out random platonic hugs, hands the reason why he was embracing Sniper right now. "Now I promise this won't happen again, alright?" Sniper was very aware that Scout needed a response to that, but he was still crying, throat far too clenched for him to even think about talking. The runner picked up rather quickly on this, however, parting from the hug and walking around to look at him. "Snipes?" He tried again carefully when he was met with the teary blank look in Sniper's eyes staring at nothing and him holding onto those railings for dear life. "Hey Snipes, everythin' okay?"

The marksman tried to nod his head, swallowing past the lump in his throat before responding: "Y-yeah... I'm fine."

"Ya sure?" Scout kept trying, this time wiggling himself in-between those railings and Sniper so the marksman was forced to look at him. "I've never seen ya like this before, Snipes, y'know ya can tell me anythin', right? What's wrong?" The runner was talking to him in the softest tone of voice he could possibly manage, hands resting on Sniper's shoulders as to non - verbally tell the marksman that he was right there for him. "Snipes please talk to me, you're worryin' me."

"I - I am.." Sniper yet again tried to tell him he was fine, but the look in the runner's eyes was so different from anyone who has ever asked him the question whether he was fine or not. Scout looked as if he wasn't to be fooled by these pathetic excuses. Somewhere Sniper had this feeling that Scout wasn't going to be comforted by a weak lie as _so many_ had been before him.

Maybe talking about last year wouldn't be the worst idea ever, but right of the bet Sniper told himself he was _never_ going to tell Scout what he had been about to do. Scout was being so approachable, so _nice_... he didn't want to scare him away.

"It's just.." The marksman eventually started after what felt like an eternity of pondering. "I was just... thinkin' of somethin' I... I got a bit carried away I guess."

"What were ya thinkin' 'bout?"

"About... err... about last year." Those words were hard to bring out, but seeing the runner's brow shape in compassion Sniper had the feeling Scout knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Ya thinkin' 'bout that day ya got shot?" Sniper only nodded, feeling more tears stinging his eyes. "Hey that's understandable man, I mean... ya _died_ after all."

"It... it's not _just_ that on its own." The marksman exclaimed silently, gaze glued to the ground. "Gettin' shot was - was just like gettin' shot at work... it was, well I don't know if this makes _any_ sense, but... the _feelin'_ afterwards... it still bothers me." The words were spilling out of him far too quick and without his own consent, but there wasn't enough restraint within himself to stop. He wanted to talk about this, wanted to hear someone say that everything was alright and that he'd be fine. He wanted these feelings to go away, wanted to be comfortable sharing his trauma with someone. He trusted Scout, he liked Scout, maybe this was exactly what he needed.

"I - I kinda know what ya mean, Snipes." Hearing Scout say that had Sniper raising his gaze to meet the runner's, what did he mean by that? "Last year 'round this time I died too, I mean I know I wasn't out as long as you were, but I know the feelin'. The darkness, the cold, I've been there too Snipes... promise you ain't alone here." Sniper felt how Scout took one of his hands into his own, gently squeezing it. Though all Sniper really could think about was how Scout had been able to go about his daily life while the exact same burden was hanging at his feet too. Was Sniper really just _that_ weak? Was he making a big deal out of nothing, was he walking around with these suicidal thoughts for no reason?

"I know it might look like that shit left me cold." Scout suddenly started to explain as if he had been able to read Sniper's panicking thoughts. "But the last year has been filled with nightmares an' panic attacks an' thoughts I didn't even know I could have, so... I understand your tears, Snipes, I've been there too, I've cried ma eyes out 'bout this crap as well." He hugged Sniper again, resting his head against the marksman's shoulder as Sniper returned the embrace, feeling something he hadn't felt in such a long time. He _wasn't_ alone. "It's fine... _you're_ fine, this feelin' will go away."

"Thank you..." Sniper whispered during the embrace, hugging Scout closer and pressing him more into his chest. He didn't want to let the runner go, on one side he wanted to protect him from every danger lurking around them and on the other he wanted Scout to protect him, the exact same way he had done today.

Because as they stood there merely inches away from the place Sniper had wanted to jump from earlier, the marksman realised that if it weren't for Scout, he would have been dead.

\--


	10. I Made a Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence and implied homophobia

Sniper couldn't possibly process the sight of the scene he'd just happened to stumble upon. He stood numbly at the door, body unmoving yet his heart was beating out of his chest, begging him to move and take some action.

But he was paralysed, shocked at what exactly he was seeing before himself. He wasn't even supposed to be there, wasn't supposed to roam the outside for trouble, but maybe it was faith pointing him the way and helping the marksman along because clearly, there was someone in deep trouble.

And that _someone_ was Scout.

The team had decided to go enjoy their Saturday evening in a cosy little bar in the nearby town, _nearby_ meaning three hours away. It was a familiar place to them, a bar they visited more often because it was one of the only places none of them had been banned from due to uncivil behaviour. (In other words, it was one of the few places where Scout, Soldier or Demo hadn't clocked someone in the face yet.)

It had been a pleasant evening too, them sitting together, drinking, talking and for just a moment there nothing knew to bother them. No Administrator, no Miss Pauling with yet another contract nagging to be completed. Just them, booze and the promise of a sorrow less evening.

Until Scout, moments later, stood up to use the toilet.

He'd clapped a hand over Sniper's shoulder, letting him know he was going and Sniper had smiled, looking over his shoulder and watching the runner politely move past a few people to get to the restroom. His smile had lingered a little longer seeing Scout move so cautiously, before he turned his head again to rejoin the conversation.

There was no worry on his mind, no concern because there was no reason to be. They'd been to this bar so many times before, who expects things to go south when someone simply stands up to use the toilet?

It only downed on Sniper perhaps twenty minutes after Scout had departed from the table that he still hadn't returned yet. He quirked an eyebrow up at the empty seat beside him, looking up and around himself to see if perhaps Scout had moved over to the bar to get a drink and simply had to wait a while, but to no avail. There was no Scout at the bar, actually Scout was _nowhere_ around them and it was then that Sniper began to worry.

Engineer had noticed Sniper's sudden restlessness and informed the marksman that he too was a little worried given that Scout still hadn't returned. Well at least now Sniper knew he wasn't going crazy, wasn't imagining things and worrying for no reason.

He scratched his head in thought for a moment, eventually pushing his chair back and informing the hardhat that he was going to take a look, that this was something rather uncharacteristic for Scout to do and left the table.

And that's how he got here, standing at the backdoor of the bar, a door adjacent from the restrooms, blinking his eyes in total disbelieve of what he was seeing.

Scout looked right out deranged, _broken_ , as if something simply had snapped and his common sense had fled him within a single instance. He grunted with effort every time he brought his arms down to land another hit with the wooden board he was holding, the end of it now covered in blood.

He was hysterically murmuring to himself, breath quick and panicked and the look in his eyes so utterly lost and _scared_ as he kept hitting and hitting and hitting, bashing in the head of some guy Sniper had never seen before, bashing until there was nothing left but a puddle of blood and brains.

It was gruesome to see.

"Fuck you! _Fuck, you_!" Scout suddenly chanted and once those words hit Sniper's ears, he finally broke from this trance, let go of the door frame he had been unknowingly gripping and willed himself to move forwards, grabbing the runner around the waist and hauling him away from his place _murdering_ that guy.

"Scout, it's me." Sniper spoke soothingly as the runner started thrashing around in his hold, too deeply into his hysterics to let Sniper's words settle in his head and tried to draw his arm back to get a nasty swing at the person holding him down. "Oi, Scout! It's me, calm down, calm down." He caught the runner's arm before he could land a hit and pried the wooden plank from his hands, holding him closer to himself to try and get him to realise that he wasn't in danger.

Scout gripped onto his arms, hands clutched in the sleeves of his shirt, as if the runner was trying to ground himself. So Sniper started slightly rocking him back and forth, trying to get his heart rate to drop and hope to eventually get some sort of _explanation_ out of him. "Shh," Sniper tried, finding himself to be rather distressed feeling how tense Scout was in his arms and seeing the lifeless body before them. "it's okay, Scout. It's just me.."

He felt Scout slowly settle in his arms, shivering so violently Sniper thought he might just shake apart, so he rubbed soothing circles on his arms to get him to calm down. Though it was right at that moment that he noticed the wounds. Cuts, scrapes and bruises littered his arms. The right side of his face was purple, bottom lip split with blood dripping down his chin and his nose was bloody too. He looked wrecked, beaten up and the situation finally started to make a little more sense.

Sniper cautiously ran his hand along Scout's arm, inspecting the damage that had been done and hugged him a little closer, but as he held the runner's side, Scout slightly flinched away, leading Sniper to believe he also had either a bruised or cracked rib.

"What happened to you..?" Sniper eventually managed to bring out, keeping his voice levelled as to not stress Scout out anymore than he already was.

Scout's breathing was still uneven, but far calmer than it was moments ago and he hesitantly opened his mouth a few times before whimpering an explanation. "He.. he dragged me outta there an' just... started kickin' the shit outta me. I only wanted to.. wanted to protect myself, I thought I was gonna _die_ , I - I snapped, but I never wanted to..." His breath hitched and his hands started shaking where they were still clutched in the fabric of Sniper's shirt. "I made a mistake." He whispered into the open air before himself, fright evident within the tone of his voice. "I - I killed 'em, I... I killed the guy, I.."

Sniper could sense that he was getting frantic again, so he wanted to interfere, prevent him from going into a panic attack, but suddenly Scout began to talk again voice a murmur as he buried his face in Sniper's arm, desperately trying to seek some comfort and turning his talking nearly unintelligible.

But as Sniper listened closely, his heart dropped into his stomach.

"He... he called me a faggot."

_Oh no_.

"Said I was... _disgustin'_."

_Oh please no._

"I - I think he really wanted to kill me.."

Everything finally made sense and it made Sniper sick. This guy had probably spot them together, put two and two together and saw Scout going to the toilet as an opportunity to seriously ruff him up or... probably even _worse_. But to this dude's dismay, Scout wasn't just a regular bar goer, Scout was a trained mercenary, a trained baseball player, this guy wouldn't stand a chance and as Sniper took another glance at his corpse, he really hadn't.

"It's okay..." Sniper repeated numbly, wrecking his head for a plan of action, tried to remember what _he_ used to do himself after an assassination. The late hour of the evening was a silent asset, however, as there were little people left in and around the bar. All they had to do was get rid of the wooden plank and not cause any commotion when leaving and then all would be good. Everything was going to be fine. They'd go back to base, burn the wooden plank and Scout would be safe.

Sniper cautiously hugged Scout closer to himself and soothingly kissed his shoulder. He couldn't help but to wonder what would have happened if Scout hadn't _'snapped'_ , but he quickly dismissed that thought. Scout was still alive, Scout had only tried to protect himself. This wasn't his fault.

This hadn't been a mistake.

\--


	11. Is This Real Life?

"You want me to do _what_ now?"

"Just for this once Sniper, I really do not know who else to ask.." The look in Medic's eyes was begging, but in all honesty that didn't exactly help convincing the marksman to babysit their youngest teammate. Now that may sound strange, but earlier that day Scout had gone through a surgery to have his tonsils removed and right now the runner was still groggy from the sedation. Sniper wondered what kind of sedatives Medic had been playing with for Scout to _still_ feel the effects of it, but to cut a long story short, the runner was quite the danger to himself and Medic really needed someone to keep an eye on him before Scout would accidentally get himself killed.

"Can't ya ask Spy?" The German visibly cocked an eyebrow up, his expression wondering whether Sniper was really that incompetent or if he was just joking. "What? He's his dad after all!"

"Yes and you are his best friend! Sniper I _really_ do not see the problem here! Did you two get into a fight or something?" Sniper didn't answer that, chewing the inside of his cheek instead as he thought back to his particular reason for why he had been actively avoiding Scout the past few days. It was true, he and Scout had been best buddies for the longest time now, but all that got ruined when Sniper woke up one day realising what that unfamiliar feeling in his gut actually was. What it meant whenever his ears burned up when Scout smiled or laughed and ever since, Sniper had denied every feeling, every indications that told him he _may_ be in love with his teammate.

But having to watch Scout for the next few hours was ruining everything he had been doing for the past week! Goddamn it, Medic.

"Sniper please," Medic continued when the marksman remained stubbornly silent. "I have no one else to go to with this... and besides in the state Scout is right now, he'll feel the safest around you anyway! He is sedated beyond anything, we don't want him to experience a panic attack, now do we?" That was foul, a low blow, Medic knew well enough that Sniper could _never_ say no to something like that. Truthfully, he actually didn't want the runner to start freaking out, even though he wasn't entirely sure if sedatives actually did that to a person or not. Well he didn't feel like waiting around for it either and risk having Scout actually go through a panic attack or something.

"Fine." Sniper muttered, hating how the German's eyes lit up by the marksman's downfall. Frankly he cared too much about Scout to even consider letting something happen to him, curse empathy, that stuff never gets you anywhere.

A ridiculously self assured smile appeared on Medic's lips as he patted Sniper's shoulder serving as a weak thank you and departing from the room before that awkward gesture would have Sniper changing his mind. He sighed deeply, then again and once more before even considering going up to Scout's room and probably having to explain why on earth he's suddenly so distant, though the marksman hoped that the sedatives made that part of his mind blank.

Dragging himself towards Scout's room, Sniper blankly stared at the oak passage way, telling himself a million times over that this was a _horrible_ idea before giving up this useless fit and knocking on the door, immediately letting himself in afterwards.

The runner lay motionless on his bed as Sniper silently stepped into the room. Maybe Scout was asleep, leading Sniper to believe that this was going to be way easier than he had originally expected. If Scout slept until Medic gave a green light on being able to leave him alone, than Sniper had nothing to worry about! Easy going, all he had to do was sit down on the runner's couch, wait for a bit and leave without Scout having the _slightest_ idea that he had been in there. Great!

If only things were so damn easy.

The moment Sniper sat down on that couch he watched with more dread than he had expected how the runner craned his neck with much effort on his part, to see who had walked into his room. He didn't say a word, however, and that was maybe the thing that bothered Sniper the most about it, because the expression in the runner's eyes really said enough. No the sedatives apparently _hadn't_ made him forget how Sniper had been neglecting their friendship for the past week or so.

But instead of confronting Sniper and asking him whatever high horse he had gotten on to start acting as if he wasn't his friend anymore, Scout simply propped himself up onto his elbows before very sluggishly throwing his legs over the side of his bed and rather clumsy rising to a standing position. His gaze didn't leave the marksman for _one second_ , not even when he took one step and wobbled on his feet for a good few minutes after that. He looked like a marionette being poorly controlled and whenever his stance seemed to play a daring game with the laws of physics, Sniper was on edge to jump forward and catch Scout if he'd lose balance. At a certain moment, however, he did and right before any part of him could make contact with the ground, probably ending with him injuring himself, Sniper had caught him.

" _Oh_ , so n-now ya - ya care." Scout slurred, clinging onto the marksman though he probably wasn't aware of it. "Y'know, you've b-been an ass - asshole all week, what's up with err... with that?" Sniper helped Scout steady himself on his feet again before letting him stand on his own. He really hadn't expected Scout to be this forward about it, but the marksman really didn't deserve any better. The past week, he _had_ been an asshole and frankly the runner deserved an explanation. Though before he could remotely _think_ of what would without a doubt be a rambling mess of nonsense and babbling, Scout decided to speak for him.

"Is it 'cos ya l-like me?" The runner had worded it so casual as if it had been real obvious or something, as if anyone was able to read it from Sniper's fucking face. The marksman was perplexed, how the hell did he know?

"I err... what - what makes ya say that..?" He dared to ask.

"'cause it makes sense, ya - y'know?" Scout walked over to his desk, hands fiddling with a letter opener that looked dangerously sharp, so Sniper was quick to snatch it from his hands and put it away. Scout lightly frowned at that before remembering that they were having a conversation and that _he_ was the one leading it. "One day we're the best pals an' the - the other you're like, scared to even freakin' l-look at me." This time he was holding a stapler and before the runner would start using it like a gun, possibly injuring Sniper too, the marksman yet again took it from him and gently lead him towards a more safer place afterwards. Now he really started to understand why Medic wanted him there.

"Snipes can ya please, f-freakin' say somethin'? I wanne - wanne know why I'm suddenly like, bein' left alone, why ma best buddy is avoidin' m-me." Sniper still didn't answer, not because he didn't want to, but because he just couldn't in general. What do you tell someone in a situation like this? Especially when the other person's head is too caught spinning in cloud nine to even talk properly.

"W-what?" Scout continued. "Want me to make it easier for ya? 'cause I like ya too S-snipes. Ya can - can just tell me, makes it easier for _everybody_ , y'know?"

A confused 'what?' silently slipped from Sniper, expression baffled beyond anything with his eyes widely staring from behind his aviators. The runner couldn't possibly be serious here.

"Dude stop starin' at me as - as if I just killed your dog. All I'm tryin' t-to tell ya is that I like ya too, what's so freakin' weird 'bout t-that?"

"Nothin'." Sniper finally responded, heart beating harshly with this realisation. "Nothin's weird about that, mate, just... didn't really expect ya to say somethin' like that, is all."

"Well expect it Snipes, I've had this - this mayor crush on ya for the longest time now..." The runner's eyes were half lidded, but not in an attempt to look seducing, no rather to indicate the sudden rush of sleepiness that had crashed over him. His already unintelligible talking turned into muttering as he wrapped his arms around the marksman and rested his head onto Sniper's shoulder. "I like ya S-snipes... I - I like ya a whole... lot..." And before he knew it the runner was standing upright, partly leaning onto Sniper as he had managed to fall asleep. The marksman didn't know what to do, with _any_ of this. He tried to align this new information in his head as he shifted their position, now carrying Scout in his arms before laying him back onto his bed. He wondered, what the hell had gotten into the runner to start acting that way, how were these last few minutes even real?

But then it hit him.

The sedatives. The honesty, the forwardness it was all because of the _fucking_ sedatives. Scout wasn't going to remember this when those fluids had ran its last course throughout his veins, wasn't going to be able to recall his confession at all and sadly... Sniper _knew_ he'd never have it in himself to ask about it once the runner had a clear head.

\--


	12. Just Smile, I Really Need You To Smile Right Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence and graphic depictions of wounds and blood, also major character death ahead

There was something nauseating about putting the barrel of a gun against someone's head and pulling the trigger without giving it much thought. Putting someone's lights out within the blink of an eye _knowing_ respawn isn't there to pick them back up was an experience Scout couldn't exactly appreciate, but it had to happen, it was simply a part of reality when going on missions and surely when you're fighting tooth and nail to stay alive yourself.

One mistake, all it had taken for them to be caught while working on a mission hours away from the base, the rest of the team and most importantly, _respawn_ , was one little mistake and now both Sniper and Scout were deeply in trouble, all the way to their fucking ears if you asked them.

Blocking the attack of an oncoming fist, Scout ducked away, regained his footing and drew his arm back to clock this bastard right in the nose. The swift movement had stunned his opponent and as he grabbed at his face to cover a bloody nose, Scout took his opportunity to hit him again and knock him unconscious, an approach he preferred using over spraying the ground with yet another set of brains.

There were about eight or nine guys surrounding and advancing on them, all with the same mindset, a mindset to kill them both. It had been an ambush, really, unfortunately Sniper and Scout had gotten themselves caught after being spotted by the very people they'd been send to eliminate and next they knew they were fruitlessly fleeing a building that already had people waiting for them at every possible exit.

They were like trapped mice, but these mice had a nasty bite and an unmoving spirit, they wouldn't go out without a fight. For the past two hours it had been nothing more than them fighting off anyone that came out their way, moving along in the building hopeful for one of the exits to be clear by now, only to be greeted by new people, new attackers and yet another dance with death.

They were starting to get drained. The overwhelming sound of gunshots were biting at their ears and their hands were stinging from overstimulation, breath quick in their chests, throats dry.

Another attacker advanced on Scout, shooting at him and _nearly_ hitting his arm. What could have been a nasty disadvantage quickly morphed into an opportunity as Scout managed to get behind the guy and drew his handgun.

_Don't think, don't think, don't think, don't think._

He squeezed the trigger, only slightly flinching at the surreal feeling of taking someone's life and moved on to the next person ready to do the exact same to Scout.

However, as smoothly as things was going for Scout, as south as they suddenly went for Sniper. He had his shotgun readied when it eventually made that horrible clicking sound and his heart stopped beating for a solid second.

_Out of ammo, god fucking damn it!_

There was little time to panic, however, as the obnoxious sound of someone charging at him caught Sniper's attention. Thinking quickly, the marksman dodged the few bullets that were send out his way only to sock his attacker in the jaw with the butt of his gun. The guy fell to the ground, unconscious and it finally gave Sniper the time to notice Scout coming to his aid.

"Yo, Snipes!" Scout yelled from across the room. "Catch!" With surprising precision Scout threw his own handgun Sniper's way, deciding to stick with his bat instead and dashing away to finish one of the few people who were still left in the room. Sniper caught the gun with ease, holding it firmly to get back into action when it suddenly happened.

Sniper turned himself around, completely unaware of the guy running out his way with a knife and before he knew it that exact knife was stabbed right into his abdominal area, catching him totally off guard, eyes widening in shock or fear or from the desperate search for a solution that took place in Sniper's head.

But instead, out of _total_ reflex, Sniper pulled the trigger on the little handgun he was holding, sending a bullet right through the guy's jaw and head and as he watched him fall to the ground he felt the knife being dragged all the way from his left hip to his right and his eyes only widened further.

Scout had just knocked someone unconscious when he took the time to look around himself, finding the room completely empty of conscious enemies. He turned to face Sniper, gleeful to see them surviving yet another wave of those assholes, but his smile vanished quickly as he caught sight of Sniper's bloodied hands gripping at his abdomen and the last dazed look he gave him before falling to the ground.

Scout immediately rushed out his way, dropping to his knees to tend to Sniper's open wound, to stop the bleeding, but as he looked at the damage that had been done, a violent chill travelled all throughout his body. There was so much blood, _so much_. It had been a deep sizable cut that would be impossible to heal without the medigun around, but that didn't stop Scout from trying anyway. Deciding he'd rather comfort himself with a lie than listen to the truth.

"Shit, shit, _fuck_ , alright it's gonna be... gonna be fine. Nothin' to worry 'bout, just... just stay calm I can fix this, I - I can fix this." He muttered more in an attempt to calm himself than it was to settle Sniper. His hands were getting extremely bloodied as well now, hands uselessly pressing onto the wound and feeling things that were _more_ than just damaged skin soaked in blood. This knife had nearly cut him in _half_ , that's how gruesome the wound was.

And that's how _lost_ the situation was too, but Scout didn't give in. With big, tear stained eyes and hitching breaths he concentrated on the problem at hand, not even noticing Sniper trying to get his attention until two trembling hands took his own and gently nudged them away from the _ugly_ wound that would surely haunt Scout for many nights to come.

"Scout.." Sniper spoke quietly. "Scout just... just stop, there's no use.." His speech was slow and troubled, but still firm enough to get his message across.

"No..!" Scout whined in protest, putting no real effort in trying to free his hands from Sniper's. "Don't be a fuckin'... fuckin' idiot! You're gonna be fine, it's gonna be f-fine.." He nearly choked on a sob he so desperately tried to contain, looking around them in a haze of panic for a solution, as if it was just waiting for them around here somewhere.

But it wasn't and Sniper was running out of time.

"Scout, please.." Sniper tried again, cupping Scout's face with a bloodied hand and making him look away from the wound and at him instead. "It's - it's okay, love."

"D-don't say that! It isn't fuckin' _okay_! I... I don't want you to die, I - I don't wanne lose you, p-please... there has to be _somethin'_ I can do, _a-anythin'_!" Tears started streaming down his face as he grabbed the wrist of the hand that was cupping his cheek, slightly leaning into the warmth of his hand and ignoring the uneasy slip of blood between Sniper's hand and his cheek.

Sniper simply smiled, own eyes filling with tears and eyebrows twitching from pain and fear and the thought that this would be the very last time he'd look into his lover's eyes. They shouldn't be that clouded with sadness and despair, it just wasn't right.

He cleared his throat and swallowed thickly before speaking: "Just smile, I really need you to smile right now."

Scout nodded his head and gathered everything within him to curl the corners of his mouth upwards and smile at Sniper. "It's goin' to be okay..." Scout shakily told him, not a single syllable said with certainty or bite, but it was the most honest thing he knew to tell Sniper. That and one other thing.

Scout leaned down to sweetly kiss his cheek and eventually lips and as they parted he silently whimpered: "I - I love you... more than anythin' in this whole entire fucked up world. Don't ever forget that... _p-please_..."

"I won't..." Sniper whispered back, arms enclosing around Scout's torso, burying his face in the runner's chest and hugging him with all the strength he'd left within his body. "I love you too, love... thank you.. for - for everythin'... you're the best thing that has - has ever happened to me." Sniper silently confessed and he felt the marksman smile against his chest. "Now, get - get yourself out of here safe and - and sound... I know you can - can do this, love. I'll... I'll be with you, that's a - a," He took a deep breath, words starting to slur together slightly now. "that's a promise.."

Scout buried his hands in Sniper's soft hair, kissing the side of his head as he felt Sniper's weakened breathing still even more against himself "I will, I'll get outta here, I'll get back to base, I'll.." He harshly closed his eyes against yet another wave of tears as the silence grew impossibly loud until Sniper's breathing completely stopped together with his heartbeat and his arms slid away from their place hugging Scout's waist.

And like that Sniper was gone.

Scout bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, forcing himself not to scream, not to cry uncontrollably and crumble to the ground like one useless and emotional lump. He hugged Sniper closer than he ever did before, ugly sobs escaping his throat and trying to savour the last time he'll ever hold him, because soon he'll have to leave him here and move on, he'll never get to see him again.

_Ever_.

"I'll miss you.." Scout whispered between sobs. " _so much_. Stay with me always... please an' - an' keep a place for me up there for if we ever meet again." He stuttered out his tragic request, hating how it sounded to his ears and quickly changing that. " _No_ " He spoke firmly. "Someday we _will_ meet again, Snipes... that's - that's _my_ promise..." 

\--


	13. Little Lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is basically about a spider, so warning for that if you're arachnophobic or just really hate spooders  
> Also warning for sappy, domestic, crap, it's goop hour boys

It had been one simple thought that spiralled out into this particular chain of events. One evening, while Sniper and Scout were lounging on the couch, watching some TV, Sniper had suddenly noised a thought he'd - without a doubt - been grinding into a pulp inside his head.

"I'm thinkin' about sellin' the house."

What seemed to be just an easy decision, was actually a far more complex and layered situation than it showed on the surface. Because - you see - at that point it had been a good six months ever since Sniper's parents had passed away and in all that time Sniper had never even mentioned the old house that had been passed down onto him. His old childhood home had become his own possession due to his parents kicking the bucket, but Scout had never really dared asking him about it. He figured if Sniper felt the need to discuss the lot, he'd eventually do so himself.

And so he did.

It wasn't easy, Scout could tell. There's a lot of sentiment paired to selling the house you grew up in and that combined with both his parents passing away, it was logical for Sniper to be more than a bit emotional about this. But he seemed levelled and calm when he discussed the option, as if selling the house would allow him to start over and maybe that's all Sniper really needed.

No use being tied to past, that will only slow you down and Scout knew whatever decision Sniper would've eventually made, would have been well thought out and nothing rushed. Hence the reason why maybe six months had passed.

And so the decision had been made; the house was being sold. But, as the pair quickly came to realise, selling a house is outright impossible when you find yourself all the way on the other side of the world. Certain things had to be discussed and Sniper doubted it could all be settled over the phone alone and on top of that the house needed a cleanup, the garden needed to be taken care of and the old barn could use some new paint and maybe some repairs. The house itself was in a decent state, but Sniper _knew_ that the rest of the lot looked dilapidated and not really taken care of. His parents had simply become too old to take care of so much ground on their own.

Sniper had explained the situation to Scout with stress evident in his voice, the both of them not having realised before what actually had to happen before a house was adequate enough to sell and not to mention the fact that Sniper would rather _die_ than give his permission for some random company he'd never heard of to do all that work for him. Scout couldn't blame him however, it was his childhood home after all, Scout could tell that it meant a whole lot to the marksman.

Nonetheless, Scout hated seeing Sniper acting so uncharacteristic, so tense and half a mile away from his usual more laid back appearance. He wanted to help in any way he could and so he'd placed a hand on Sniper's shoulder, waited for the marksman to look up and back at him and offered; "How 'bout we do all that ourselves? You an' me man! We could go durin' the next ceasefire or ask permission to leave." He smiled brightly and squeezed Sniper's shoulder in a reassuring manner. "We're a good team an' once everythin' is cleaned up and repaired you'll be able to properly sell the house an' just not have to worry 'bout it no more." His hand went to teasingly pat Sniper's cheek as the marksman's countenance finally softened hearing that request. "Whaddaya think, babe?"

A smile finally started to curl his lips. "You'd be willin' to go with me to Australia for who knows how long _just_ to clean up an old house?" Sniper asked.

Scout playfully scoffed as he quirked up one of his eyebrows, hands cupping either side of Sniper's face. "Yeah I know, aren't I just _amazin_ '?"

The response had Sniper chuckling, his own arms moving to wrap around the runner's waist and squeezing him in a hug before giving him a loving peck on the cheek. "The absolute best, love."

It took a while before the request of a ceasefire was granted and the fact that they were given furlough _at all_ was partially to blame on the BLU Medic blowing up half the BLU base and the damage being so severe that repairs had to be done. What sounded like tragedy to the others had sounded like music to their ears because _finally_ Sniper and Scout could go to Australia and settle everything that needed to be done.

And now here they were, baking in the Australian sun whilst working some repairs on the old barn stood a few meters away from the house. Sniper had explained that its purpose of housing sheep had been lost long ago ever since his parents had decided to quit the farmers life. With Sniper sending in money every month, it hadn't been necessary for them to continue such labour and given their ages at the time, Fortress' pay check had been a blessing.

"Oi love," Sniper called out as he rummaged through his toolbox in search of a hammer and some nails. "could you get a piece of wood? There's a stack of 'em outside."

He watched Scout stepping away from the wall he'd been painting into a new colour, wiping his hands on the fabric of his shorts and turning his head to look outside before giving him a thumbs up as he shouted: "On it!"

Sniper briefly smiled at the sight, gaze lingering on the doorframe and thoughts spiralling out into an outright mess. He just couldn't really contain himself. Being back home, with all these memories and now with Scout being with him, Sniper couldn't help these strange emotions that had been clouding his mind for the past few days.

He'd felt so emotional unlocking that door and stepping inside the empty house. It'd been silent and weird and nothing like how it used to be. Whereas his mother would have usually darted around the corner eager to greet her boy with his dad silently following after her whenever he returned home during a vacation, all he was left with now was an empty corridor and the cruel reality that his parents were actually gone. For good.

But these past few days, as he and Scout had finally set about rolling up their sleeves - after a long night of laying awake, talking and admittedly occasionally crying into the runner's shoulder in what quickly turned into one of the most comfortable nights he's ever experienced with another person - and started working on the house, the surrounding garden and the barn, these dire feelings and thoughts had slowly transitioned into Sniper realising how much he'd actually missed Australia, which in its turn slowly melted into really liking the new life being blown into the place and as he was stood there, waiting for Scout to return with the wood, completely drowned in his own thoughts this small bit of Sniper wondered that maybe, in some distant future, _maybe_ he shouldn't sell the house after all because _perhaps_ in some universe that probably didn't exist, a reality where both their contracts eventually ended and they were free to do whatever, he could see himself living here again, but _maybe_ not alone.

He shook his head quickly. Scout would never settle for a future as such, it was ridiculous so he better quit it before he'd accidentally hurt his own feelings. He leaned back to rummage through the toolbox again, finally finding a couple useful nails and a hammer fit for the job.

_Scout seemed to be having fun though_ , Sniper slipped up and allowed himself to argue mere two seconds after telling himself to stop. But it was nice to be away from the base and in an atmosphere that was _normal_ and it really seemed like Scout was enjoying that too. Things Sniper considered problems when they left New Mexico only seemed like minor inconveniences now. The heat wasn't as much of a bother as he thought it would be, but of course it wasn't because Scout was used to running around a dessert for Christ sake. And yes Sniper was very aware of those summers where nothing was needed to cook a person to the pavement, but maybe Scout would consider it worth it?

Or maybe Sniper was just letting his mind run wildly for no reason besides nostalgia and an unhealthy yearning for a quiet life with the runner he'd came to love so very much.

"Jesus _FUCK_! What the hell is that?!" The sudden loud exclaim shook Sniper from his thoughts as he quickly descended from the ladder he was stood on and moved outside, peering into the field brightened by the afternoon son to spot Scout near the house standing at the stack of wood with a horrified expression across his face. His whole entire posture was rigid as his gaze was obviously fixated on something amongst that pile of wood and as Sniper moved closer, it took him a bit before he finally spotted what had Scout acting like he'd touched a burning stove.

There crawling between the stacked wood was a rather large, eight legged specimen, one Sniper could only recognize as the Sydney Funnel - Web Spider; one of the - if not _the_ \- most dangerous spiders out there.

"Dude, _dude_! What the hell kinda dinosaur is _that_?I!" Scout nearly screeched. Sniper wiped his brow as he watched Scout dancing from one foot to the other, unable to contain a smile as he witnessed the sight of brass Scout being terrified by a spider.

"Oh c'mon love, I've had bigger ones sleepin' in my shoes when I was a kid." Sniper teased, yet motioning for Scout to come out his way, which Scout gladly seemed to do. He quickly shot into motion and hid behind the marksman as he gripped at his arm, eying the stack of wood like it was about to bite him. Well, the spider _did_ rear up at Scout's sudden movement so maybe he wasn't that far off.

"Aggressive little bugger." Sniper muttered offhandedly as he took a better look at the arthropod. It was a good sized spider, Sniper could see why Scout had been startled by it. It had its front legs in the air out of pure agitation, fangs clearly visible from that angle, but despite its defensive posture Sniper had to admit that it was a gorgeous specimen. With a glossy and dark plum coloured body, the Spider stood out like a sore thumb amongst the light wood surrounding it. "Where did ya find this one?" Sniper eventually asked as he looked around for _anything_ to capture the spider with.

"I dunno, man, I was just gettin' a piece of wood an' when I turned it over that thing was just freakin' crawlin' _inches_ away from ma hand."

Sniper pressed his mouth into a thin line as his brow rose, slightly nodding his head as he listened. "Gotta say, love, ya got awfully lucky then."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Scout asked slightly irritated, but Sniper could tell the slight fright colouring his voice.

"Well ya see this is the Sydney Funnel - Web Spider," Sniper started to explain as he settled for a plastic cup laying a few meters away from them and gently set it over the peeved Spider. "also known as one of the most dangerous spider's out here in Australia."

"Wait, ya tellin' me that thing coulda freakin' killed me?" He could feel Scout's grip tightening where it was gripping Sniper's arm and the marksman really couldn't help but smile at this new piece of information he'd gotten about Scout. He never knew he was afraid of spiders.

"Nah wouldn't say it would've killed ya, this one appears to be female and their venom is far less potent than that of the male's. It would've hurt like absolutele hell, but you wouldn't have died."

"Wow," Scout deadpanned, face as blank as ever. "that brings so much comfort to me, babe. Thanks." The marksman gave a full on laugh at that response, slightly shaking his head as he gave the cup holding the little critter a light shake so she'd crawl up high enough for him to seal it off and bring her some other place far away from here.

"Look," Sniper said as he held the little container up. "isn't she a beaut though? These type of spider's are usually a real pain in the arse, this little lady is behavin' herself."

He could see Scout's face contorting in discomfort at both the spider very much rearing up and attacking her plastic prison and the fact that Sniper was freaking baby talking that thing. "Yeah yeah whatever, just get rid of her, _please_."

"Oh what? We're not _keepin'_ her?" Sniper asked flabbergasted with his expression and tone of voice so artificial and Scout's fist had never connected with his shoulder as quickly as it did now. Catching Sniper right in the middle of a laughing fit.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Scout asked, nearly as peeved as their little eight legged friend. "I want that freakin' spider as far away from me as she possibly can be. Thank you."

Sniper shrugged his shoulders, lips still quirked up in a smile as he looked at the spider in the little container. "Sorry lass, ya heard 'em, I'll have to let ya go." He placed a hand over his heart, act still as horribly soap opera like as it was before and no matter how hard Scout tried, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed, Sniper could tell it was getting to him by the way the corners of his mouth were fighting to stay down. "Say your goodbyes." Sniper teased for the last time, snickering at Scout putting on a fake smile and flipping both Sniper and his little friend off.

"You're the worst."

"I know." Sniper responded cheekily as he kissed Scout on the cheek, free hand lingering on his hip _just_ to completely throw him off, before setting off to find a spot to let the little critter go, a sly smile stuck on his face.

*********************

That evening after Sniper had taken a shower and changed into fresh and comfortable clothes, he found Scout sitting on the couch slightly crouched over something in his lap, comfortably perched up at the floor lamp and clearly very concentrated. Sniper could tell he was drawing, he knew that position like no other and the way Scout would tab his pencil against the paper in thought had become rather familiar to the marksman.

He moved over to where he was standing behind the couch, close enough to take a look at the page and finding a bunch of sloppy sketches of.. _spiders_? Sniper quirked an eyebrow up, finding himself rather confused as he leaned down to trap the concentrated runner into a hug.

"If I may ask," Sniper started, kissing Scout's temple and muttering the rest of his words into the runner's skin. "what exactly are you doin'?"

"I'm tryin' to redraw that spider from earlier, but I just can't remember what she looked like." Scout turned his head to look at Sniper, eyes suddenly hooded and annoyed at the perplexed look the marksman was giving him. "What? She was scary as hell an' I never wanne see her again, but she was also very pretty like you said an' 'sides, I can use the practice."

"Alright," Sniper answered as he let go of the hug in lieu of joining Scout on the couch. "well first of all, the abdomen needs to be way bigger than that." He pointed out and Scout immediately took the note and changed it. "Female Funnel - Web spider's have bigger abdomens than the male's, that's how you can tell 'em apart too. Also she had thicker legs than that." Again Scout went to correct his mistake, softly nodding his head as if the memory of what the spider looked like was slowly but steadily returning to him.

"I'm always amazed at how much you know 'bout animals," Scout said as he continued drawing. "like I always forget you're like some sort of expert until we come across a random animal an' you just _go off_ an' know everythin' there is to know 'bout it."

Sniper chuckled. "Learned it all from books my dad gave me," He smiled fondly at the memory before turning his gaze to look at the bookshelf. "they're all still here too, so if ya want I'm sure there's a picture of that spider somewhere in there."

Scout shook his head as he smiled up at the marksman, gently grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers. "Nah, I'd rather just have you describe it to me, that's more fun."

"Alright, love." Sniper agreed as he planted a soft kiss on the back of the runner's hand. They sat together like that for the rest of the evening, with Sniper giving a rather detailed description of what that little lady had looked like, what colour she was and how big and Scout would listen very closely, concentrated to a tee as he neatly worked on the drawing that soon perfectly pictured the little aggressive spider they'd encountered earlier today.

And while they were enjoying their evening like that, Sniper couldn't help but to steal a look at Scout's face every once in a while. The glow of the dark yellow light that was standing next to the couch was casting dramatic shadows on the runner's sharp face, but it didn't distract Sniper from the way his brow would furrow as he gave the paper before himself a piercing look or the way he would worry his bottom lip between his teeth out of habit. It were tiny little details, going from his buckteeth to the freckles spotting his cheeks, but Sniper noticed them all. Whenever Sniper would make some lousy joke he'd watch Scout wrinkling his noise as he laughed or smiled and feel his heart skip a beat at the sight alone.

It was nice to be this close to another person, nice to do something as simple as sitting on the couch with the knowledge that there wasn't a battlefield right outside their doors. It made things feel normal and domestic even.

And maybe, deep inside himself, Sniper could _really_ see himself living in this house together with Scout, could really imagine sharing his life with another human being, but that would simply be a question and matter for another time.

\--


	14. Love, Your Secret Admirer

Snow crunched beneath his feat as Sniper made his way back to his camper at the late hour of eleven pm. Today had been valentine's day and for _whatever_ reason had that granted them with a day off. Sniper didn't understand why, as if valentine's day was some important holiday, at least it wasn't in Australia. Though he _had_ noticed some of his teammates making plans to celebrate this annual day of love. As corny as it was, Medic and Heavy had staggered down to the city for some peace and quiet and even Demo had managed to score a date with some girl he had met a few weeks ago. Well at least the holiday wouldn't be wasted then, because for the rest of the team today was nothing more than a normal ceasefire, a moment to relax and sleep in late.

Well actually, he wasn't really sure about that. Sniper just guessed because throughout the entire day he hadn't bothered visiting the base once. Though you can't blame him! It's cold as shit, it was already a surprise that he'd bother to leave his RV to do some target practise up in the nest. It did make him wonder, however, what were the others up to? Maybe Soldier had set out to visit Zhanna (they _were_ in Russia mind you, it could be a possibility) or Pyro could be busying themselves in the kitchen as a valentine's day activity, who knows? It'd be a surprise if either Engineer or Spy gave a rats ass about this day, but hey that still leaves for the opportunity to be salty about it _together_ at least.

The marksman's mind flicked over to their youngest teammate for just a second there. Valentine's day _would_ be a great opportunity to woo someone and since it was no secret that Scout was fruitlessly in love with Miss Pauling, Sniper could see the runner trying again today. His efforts were useless though. Even a blind squirrel could tell that Miss Pauling wasn't exactly into Scout or... _guys_ in general, so it was sad that Scout was so painstakingly oblivious to that. Though say about Scout whatever you want, the runner has an unbreakable spirit and that's, without a doubt, what Sniper liked most about him.

Reaching his camper, Sniper sighed relieved as he opened the door and stepped inside. The difference in temperature came as a much expected and very welcoming slap in the face as he got rid of his scarf, coat and kicked off his boots. God he _hated_ the cold. He saw no practical use in a country being frozen over all the time, Australia doesn't see one inch of snow _all_ year and it's doing perfectly fine! Coldfront is the only base Sniper really detested being, others are plenty warm enough, 2fort for example, but this "stuck in time can _anyone_ even normally live here" country was by far the marksman's least favourite.

Making a small effort to place his stuff where it needs to be, Sniper ended up with putting his rifle on the table so he could clean it later. Upon doing this, with the gush of wind that movement had created, a dark red envelope gently swirled up and then straight back down to the ground. Sniper frowned at it, feverishly wondering what the hell that was. He didn't remember putting anything of the like there, let alone that he _had_ something like that. Staring for a moment longer, Sniper retrieved the envelope, only to find his codename to be written on the front.

That explained a lot, why he didn't remember nor recognize it. It wasn't from Sniper but rather _for_ him. Maybe one of his teammates had left him a message while he was gone, though he didn't understand why they had gone through so much trouble to put it in an envelope and seal the damn thing as well.

Nothing made sense, it really didn't, but Sniper wasn't about to immediately mark this as some enemy gesture when he hadn't even bothered to open it yet.

Raking a knife through the top of the envelope, the marksman managed to open it in one fluid movement, immediately taking out a.. _card_ as well? No wait, not _just_ a card, a bloody _valentine's_ card if you like. This must be some stupid joke, haha great laugh! Send lonely introverted Sniper a valentine's card and see how stupidly excited he gets over it. Fuck that! He wasn't about to become the team's personal joke. In a gust of self made anger, Sniper threw the card towards his couch and sat down at the table. Cleaning his gun would most definitely distract him from the fact that _someone_ was trying to make him look like an idiot.

Sadly, it didn't. Halfway through cleaning his scope, Sniper found himself more distracted than ever. It wouldn't hurt to at least _read_ it, right? If anybody tried to mock him for that, Sniper was convinced he'd find _some_ way to deal with it, turn things around and make them look like the idiots! Though he had no idea how he'd do that and the fact that he's blooming horrible with words wasn't going to be his best companion, but whatever! Even if this was a joke, there was just as much of a chance it wasn't.

Rising from his seat, the marksman walked up to where he had thrown the card, cautiously picking it up now to take a better look. It was just as red as the envelope, maybe even darker and next to the big pink, with white outlined, letters screaming "Happy Valentine's Day!" hearts were covering every other inch except for the corners who all had a little cupid's bow. It was an immensely cheesy card, yet you could tell there wouldn't be a single copy of this thing. It was handmade, even more the reason to believe that this was genuine. Why would someone go through so much trouble _just_ to play a prank on him?

As he opened it, the same handwriting as before greeted the marksman. It was sloppy, but not unreadable and the text written was just as corny as the card itself, but it was sweet. Sweet enough to make him smile, but what seriously took the cake was the whole ordeal ending with "love, your secret admirer." Not so much of a 'secret' Sniper chuckled, because he _recognized_ the handwriting and you know what? That must have been the best part about it.

***********************

After another day on the battlefield, Scout dashed from their base towards the camper parked maybe half a mile away. The cold made him twice as quick on his feet as he usually was and within the span of a second, the runner arrived at the RV and urgently knocked on the door.

"C'mon Snipes! I'm freezin' ma ass off!" Scout called when he noticed Sniper taking his sweet time before opening the door. A low chuckle was heard from inside before the door opened. Without waiting for an invite, Scout let himself in, shivering as he plopped down onto the couch. "Fuck it's so freakin' cold what the hell."

"Maybe ya should actually wear a coat instead of only a sweater, Scout."

"No, I don't need a lecture Snipes, a coat doesn't run as easy, end of story." The runner countered as he looked around for _anything_ that could give him some warmth. Eventually he settled for a blanket draped over Sniper's bunk, knowing the marksman wouldn't mind if he took it for a bit. Though as Scout went to retrieve it, something strangely familiar caught his eye. There, upon the little nightstand laid a dark red envelope he recognized all too well. Yes! Sniper had found it, his plan had worked!

Wrapping the blanket around himself, Scout yet again sat down. He wondered if it had meant anything to Sniper, Scout hadn't exactly written his name in it, but was he... speculating something? Well, given that the marksman wasn't saying anything about it, he probably had no idea... or he didn't care.

"How was your valentine's day?" Scout heard himself asking without consent, directly feeling like hitting himself over the head with something. _Great_ , real smooth alright.

"Nothin' special, yours?" Sniper's response was far from what Scout had truly wanted. It disappointed him greatly how he didn't even seem to care at all. Why would Sniper hold onto that sappy thing if it all left him cold anyway? Maybe he had just forgotten to throw it out, that could be a possibility.

"Same." He replied meekly, actually feeling himself get sour over the fact that Sniper had called the card 'nothing special' as if he hadn't put three days work in that thing! All unappreciated.

"Really?" Sniper asked. "Half expected ya to put the moves on Miss P. again."

"No!" The runner replied rapidly as he folded his arms over his chest. "I already told ya I ain't tryin' no more. Haven't been for a couple of months now actually." Scout didn't care whether his annoyance was a bit too clear or not, what else was he supposed to do? Here he had been trying to get Sniper's attention in another way than just friendship, but him having that meaningless crush on Miss Pauling was _always_ going to bite him in the ass over and over again.

Scout saw no use in staying, this encounter had been too heavy for his little confused heart to bear. Did that marksman even _know_ what he did to him? No! Sniper didn't know how his smiles melted Scout's heart or how much it meant to the runner whenever he told him how proud he was after a victory. He didn't know and he was never going to.

Standing up in a burst of annoyance, the runner informed Sniper that he'd be leaving now. Confused Sniper looked up, Scout had only been there for ten minutes maybe, usually the runner would stick around much longer, even fall asleep at times and spend the night. This was unusual.

"I'm goin' now. See ya."

"Alright... Hey Scout."

"Yeah?" Scout turned around, not understanding the amused look on Sniper's face. What was so funny about all this? Scout thought it was far from actually.

"'Happy' is spelled with two P's." Sniper pushed the card forward on the table, pointing out the mistake with a grin that only grew bigger the more ashamed Scout got. A nervous babbling escaped the runner, hands blindly feeling for the doorknob. This was so embarrassing, what the _actual_ fuck. He wanted to go bury himself somewhere so he'd never have to face Sniper again.

"Ahaha... y-yeah, thanks for err... thanks for pointin' that out.." He mumbled before finally grabbing hold of the doorknob, opening the door and dashing out of there as if his life depended on it.

He had gotten what he wanted, Sniper _did_ care apperently, but as he ran right back into the base, up to his room only to lock himself inside, Scout had no idea what to do with that piece of information.

Well shit.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is so old I can nearly hear it complain about backpains


	15. Miscalculation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for amputation and mentions of blood at the beginning of this drabble

Much to Engineer's aversion, the respawn systems were being rather unusual today. Peculiar buzzing noises filled the tiled walls of the respawn room and the machinery attached to that whole ordeal was huffing more than usual. Again and again he recalculated in his head whether maybe he had missed the monthly check-up, but that was utter nonsense when he really thought about it, given that he had done that less than a week ago. And besides, Engineer wouldn't let something like that slip by him unnoticed. This system was what kept them all going, _literally_. Within this strange war, there was one thing that decided about life or death and it was this exact system that had been stirring up Engineer's worry all day. So, he really knew better than to neglect something of such importance, he'd be a right fool for doing so.

But besides that, besides the fact that there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with it, at a certain moment it _did_ go wrong.

A loud explosion and the formation of a thick cloud of ash afterwards had alarmed those who had been close enough to notice it, which included Engineer. He shared a look with Soldier who stood a few feet away from him, before they both dashed out towards their base to see what kind of damage this had left behind and... if someone had been harmed or possibly even _killed_. Engineer's heart pounded harshly up against his chest, adrenaline rushing through him like a rocket as he suddenly felt wobbly on his feet at the mere thought of someone dying because of this. That would be horrible, tremendous and sadly, it would all be Engineer's fault.

Once they arrived, the only two present at respawn were Sniper and Demo, who watched the carnage in petrifying shock, being able to do little besides seeing it slowly burn and _pray_ that no one was going through respawn the moment it exploded.

For a moment there was a painful silence, safe from the burning wood and everybody's hearts beating in their throats. For a moment there they believed that just maybe respawn wasn't going to spit out a lifeless corpse as delayed response, but the blood of everyone present ran ice cold the moment they heard a meek cry from within the ruined room. A desperate, pain-filled begging for help suddenly filled their ears and when realisation finally kicked them awake, their eyes grew as wide as dinner plates, finally realising that the person crying out like that, was their youngest teammate.

"Scout!" Engineer watched with a tight throat how Sniper shielded himself from what was left of that thick smoke before he waltzed in there, only to vanish within a moment's notice. The hardhat couldn't believe what he was seeing, a stinging pain had settled within his chest from the moment he heard Scout pleading like that, but the sight he was met with once Sniper finally emerged from the smoke with Scout in his arms, was sure to haunt Engineer for years to come.

Scout was breathing heavily, his eyes filled with terror as he clung to Sniper as if he were the only thing keeping him grounded. His clothes were full of tears and somewhere along the way he had lost his grey cap, but what really drew all the attention was the fact that nearly two-third of Scout's left leg was missing and blood was oozing out of him like there was no tomorrow.

Turning around, Engineer ordered Demo and Soldier to immediately go get Medic, before refocusing on the actual problem again. Sniper had gently put Scout down, now holding his hand and constantly reassuring him that he would be fine, everything would be fine. True terror was captive within the marksman's own eyes, his brow shaping with sadness when Scout gritted his teeth and held onto Sniper's shirt with a vice-like grip.

"I-it _hurts_ so fuckin' much, Snipes." Scout gasped, his chest rising and falling unsteadily as he writhed on the floor out of cheer pain. Seeing the damage that had been done, it looked like Scout's leg had been ripped from him, as leaving respawn while it exploded had created an invisible barrier ready to tear atoms apart if it had to. It was gruesome, but to Engineer it also seemed so surreal. Somewhere he was experiencing a whole lot of trouble realising that this actually happened and that Scout, _the_ scout, had lost the majority of his left leg.

"Shh, Scout, please calm down... ya gotta try movin' less, else you'll lose too much blood.." Sniper tried to reason with him, but to no avail of course. The runner was into too much pain to be able to keep himself still. Harshly he bit his lip now and his eyes filled with tears as he so desperately tried to find a way to cope with the pain, but from where Engineer was standing he could clearly see Scout's narrow frame shivering from agony and fear, breaking the hardhat's heart in the progress as he realised that all of this was his fault.

"I don't wa-wanne - wanne die..." Scout's words ended in a whisper, his voice weak, skin paler than snow and dark black circles were starting to make their presence underneath his eyes. The runner's hand trembled violently as it was still holding onto Sniper, the marksman now closely hugging Scout back instead of making uncertain promises. You could watch the energy drain out of him, the life melting away from his form and if this wasn't the most poignant thing he'd ever witness, Engineer had no idea what would be.

Hearing the doors of the resupply room open and the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching made Engineer feel ten million times lighter. Medic rushed past the hardhat, holding the only solution to this right mess in his gloved hands; the medigun. That thing was a real miracle, there was nothing Medic's creation couldn't safe. Scout was going to be fine, all this would fade like a bad dream within the next five minutes and any feeling of guilt that was already busying settling within Engineer could pack up and leave.

And it all seemed to work. Medic aimed the gun, the red mist finding its target like a real blood hound its pray before settling around the wound and healing the caused damage. It did what it had to do, neatly it closed the heavily bleeding wound and carried the panicked runner out of the life threatening field he had been previously in. But despite that, everybody watching stood by perplexed as it did all that, but also... _only_ that. For some reason, Scout's leg wasn't returning like severed limbs usually would, no. The wound was healed, the bleeding had stopped, but the damage was permanent, leaving the young runner dismembered and with no single way of fixing it.

Once it was over, another silence filled the room, a silence in which everybody looked at Scout with an expression that was truly apologetic. The runner didn't understand those looks, however, terrified he looked around the room, repeatedly asking, demanding what the hell they were gawking at! But no one had the guts to tell him, no one could stand bringing the heartbreaking news, so they stayed silent until Scout discovered it himself.

His eyes grew double in size, breath picking up as he suddenly stood eye to eye with the cold-hard truth that his leg was gone, _actually_ gone. He started panicking all over again, slightly trashing around as Sniper held him down, trying to calm him, but this sudden panic attack was getting the better of the runner and after cursing for the stars and sky to hear and slamming his first repeatedly against the ground, Scout fainted in the marksman's arms.

**********************

The hardhat was nervously fumbling his rubber glove as he trudged through the hallways towards the medical quarters of the base. After that horrible incident, Medic had asked Sniper to bring Scout there so he'd be able to keep an eye on him in case phenomena like phantom pains started kicking up. Engineer was nervous to face the victim of his mistake, but this little flicker of hope remained in the back of his head as he had thought of a solution, something to make up for what he had done.

_Something_ had been wrong with respawn and Engineer had gazed right past it during his monthly check-up, he felt like such an idiot, surely because someone could have died! He wondered, if the Administrator got word of this how big was the chance he'd get fired?

He shushed that upsetting thought away by shaking his head, reminding himself of the whole reason why exactly he was there, now standing before the door that held his injured teammate. Stopping for a moment he recognized Sniper's low voice calmly talking and once a tired, yet firm voice responded, Engineer knew for certain that Scout was awake. He softly knocked on the door, waited for a response to come in and subsequently, did exactly that.

Scout softly smiled at him once Engineer opened the door, but the look in man's eyes was beyond any state of happiness. The hardhat could tell, whatever uplifting lie Scout was about to tell him, not one syllable of it would be true.

"Hi Engie." Scout greeted him, the grin on his face in fighting contrast with the sadness in his eyes. Oh he was trying so unbelievably hard and Engineer had half a mind why. Scout knew Engineer would drag this whole entire thing upon himself, pinpoint himself as the bad guy of this story and not let that go for, possibly, the rest of his life. The hardhat appreciated that, but frankly he cared too much about the runner to make it that easy. If he really wanted to, Engineer could be able to drop this and alls would be forgiven, but he had come up with too good of a solution to leave Scout in the state he was right now.

Scout was being dragged right into a dark pit and Engineer's plan might have been the only thing to get him out of it.

"Hi Scout, how ya feelin'?"

"Fine." The runner stated firmly. Over the years Engineer knew him, this runner hadn't changed one bit. Scout would rather eat glass than admit to his own dire feelings sometimes and the way Sniper looked at the runner with a worry-filled expression, told the hardhat he wasn't the only one thinking that. "I'm fine." He repeated. "Just, y'know, a bit in a weird situation right now."

"I know, son, I know. I'm sorry this happened to ya... I truly am. Respawn hadn't been actin' right all day, I should have stopped the fight, but I didn't expectin' nothin' _could_ have been wrong with the system just 'cause I did a check-up last week. That was unbelievably neglectful of me and you were the one payin' for it."

"Oh no Engie please." Scout was quick to counter, eyes big, telling Engineer he didn't want him to feel guilty without needing the words. "It was just... unfortunate. I mean, it could have been worse, right? I could have died too, but I didn't. I just... I lost ma leg an' the ability to run, but... it.. it could have been worse.." He had repeated the last part silently, looking down at what remained of his left leg with privation. His words didn't match his expression, his eyes betraying his true emotions about this whole ordeal. The runner was hopeful for thinking it could have been worse, but it was no crime for him to mourn the loss of his abilities, to be sad about the fact that the accident had robbed him of the very thing that got him hired in the first place.

"Scout you're one brave fellow and I admire ya for thinkin' like that in a situation like this, but... I do still want to make this up and I think I know how."

Both Scout and Sniper cocked up an eyebrow at that, quickly sharing a look before their gazes travelled back to the hardhat. Though despite Scout perking up at that a bit, he was quick to shag his shoulders again as if his good hope had left him all at once.

"Ya talkin' 'bout a prosthesis? 'cause I mean... I think that ain't gonne be a way to.. _fix_ this. Medic proposed it as well earlier. If I still had like ma knee that'd be a solution, but I wouldn't be able to bend ma leg or properly move at all with a prosthesis an' then I'd rather just stay like this instead of havin' this hope even though it won't help me out anyway, y'know?"

Despite Scout _already_ turning down his offer, the smile remained on Engineer's lips, knowing he was one step ahead already. "I totally understand that, Scout and even though I _am_ talkin' 'bout a prosthesis, I ain't talkin' 'bout the type Medic brought up." Engineer watched Scout making another move to protest, but this time Sniper was quick to be the voice of reason here, telling Scout that there was no harm in listening to Engineer's offer. Scout's gaze fell for a moment, considering Sniper's words before allowing Engineer to propose his proposal.

Grabbing the edge of his rubber glove, he slowly wedged his arm out of it, revealing something _no one_ of the entire team even knew existed; The Gunslinger.

"A few years back while I was repairin' my cousin's car, my arm got caught between the engine and I lost everythin' below my elbow." He started to explain, nearly grinning at the perplexity in both Scout and Sniper's faces. "I sulked for a darn long time just asumin' I'd never be able to create somethin' again 'cause I lost my left arm, but instead I realised I'd be able to make myself a _new_ arm, one that would be useful to me, one that'd act and feel just like a normal arm would and see-" He held up the robotic prosthesis, flexibly moving his fingers as if they weren't any different than the ones made out of flesh and bone. "It took me a hell of a time to create this damn thing and even more time to fine-tune it and figure out how I'd manage to connect it to my nerves, but it worked and I'm still able to do the things I'm good at. I can do that for you too, Scout, now that I know how this works and I actually have both hands to work with, I can make a prosthesis for your leg, one that'll allow ya to move as cunnin' as you always did."

There was a long silence, mostly because Engineer assumed Scout and Sniper were still processing that whole bit, but eventually Scout seemed to lightly snap back as hope returned to his eyes and his brow relaxed ever so slightly.

"R-really?" The runner nearly whispered in disbelieve.

"Really. Gimme a week tops and I promise this mess will be cleared and you can keep doin' your job the way you always did." Guilt suddenly overtook his voice, eyes apologetic as he looked at his teammate. "L-lemme make this up to ya, son, I'm beggin' ya."

**********************

It was one devastating week, surely for Scout. Seeing his teammates march off towards the battlefield every morning while he was cursed to hop around the base with crutches and a vastly sinking mood, Scout was truly losing his touch. He had stopped bragging about himself, halted his boastful attitude right where the accident had lastly cut into his life, but worst of all, he had stopped smiling. Seeing the runner so utterly heartbroken and acting so _uncharacteristic_ was a hard pill to swallow for everyone. This wasn't the Scout they knew, this was some worn out shell sucked dry from every bit of positivity he usually possessed.

Engineer worked night and day on the prosthesis, this depressed picture of Scout enough for him to jump in the fastest lane possible and finish this damn thing as quickly as he could. Though everyday he'd take thirty minutes to go to Scout's room and tell him about the process he'd already made. Engineer would watch the runner perk up at his words, a quivering smile on his lips as he nodded to whatever thing Engineer was telling him. Those thirty minutes every day was the height of Scout's entire week and if that wasn't something worth fighting for, Engineer had no idea what would be.

But what totally took the cake was the day Engineer _finished_. With gleefulness floating through him from the inside out, Engineer had staggered towards Scout's room. Unbeknownst of the unholy hour the clock struck, the hardhat knocked on his door at five in the freaking morning, letting himself in after a sleep invested voice told him to. Scout was sitting up in his bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and next to him, Sniper was sat on a chair, head resting on Scout's mattress; he was still fast asleep, but that didn't matter.

Scout nearly yelled out of pure excitement as Engineer told him the best news he'd ever hear in his life. Solely due to the adrenaline rush, Scout shook Sniper awake, that bit of news enough to kick the marksman right up and nearly hug the life out of the runner.

Things were looking up, Engineer thought as he watched the pair. Days of work had pooled into this project, Engineer had truly poured his heart and soul into this thing and he knew, deep inside, he knew everything would be _fine_.

**********************

Engineer had stood by Medic's side during the operation, carefully leading him though this minefield of risks until finally the prosthesis was attached and they clapped each other on the shoulder because of a job well done. They returned a still unconscious Scout to his room and after that it was waiting for the anaesthesia to wear off and for the runner to wake up. Engineer was beyond excited to see the look on Scout's face, even better, to be there when the runner takes his first step. Though they all knew by now that it wasn't going to be a road without bumps, Scout still had to get used to the prosthesis, but honestly nothing a bit of practise couldn't solve and given Scout's impatience he wouldn't let one moment of it slip by him.

Only a few hours later, as Sniper and Engineer sat in his room waiting and talking, Scout woke up. Seven pm lurked closely when the runner opened his eyes and very groggily reached out a hand to nothing in particular, only to have it held gently by one of Sniper's. Two hopeful gazes smiled down at him as he blinked his eyes and tried to remember where the hell he was, though quickly the memories resurfaced in his head and when the feeling returned in his lips and throat he silently croaked: "D-did it work?"

"It sure did, Scout!" Engineer announced, minding to keep his voice calm and not move too quickly as to not startle the still waking runner. "Medic did a fine job attachin' the whole ordeal, the operation went exactly as we wanted it to go." Struggling to get his arms behind himself, Scout pushed himself into a sitting position, his crystal clear irises widening as he saw the robotic attachment of his leg. There was a silence, a silence in which Scout swallowed thickly, his gaze wavering towards Engineer. There was fright in his eyes, the hardhat could tell, but that was to be expected. It wasn't everyday that twenty five percent of yourself became artificial.

"Go ahead Scout, ya can move it." Engineer reassured him. "It'll feel weird in the start, but give yourself some time, son. Your body is still gettin' used to this foreign experience."

"Will it hurt to walk?"

"There is a chance, but it's mostly your body bein' confused 'bout the fact that your leg shouldn't be there anymore, so the pain will fade and it will fade quickly." Scout nodded firmly, yet the way he gave his leg a hesitant look-over still showed him to be uncertain and a bit lost. Ever so carefully, however, Scout did sport an attempt at lifting the leg, his eyes growing big with wonder as it _actually_ worked out. A hopeful smirk was desperately tugging at his lips and as he slowly inched moments closer to mindfully bending his new knee, a full smile soon grew on his face. He did it once, twice, then again to actually grasp the mere fact that this was real and after he'd bend his knee for the eight time Engineer suggested he'd try to walk.

"Y-ya sure?"

"As sure as I can be, son. C'mon now, Slim and I will help ya in case somethin' goes wrong!"

"Yeah, Scout," Sniper also tried to reassure him. "we wouldn't just let ya fall, now would we?"

"Don't act as if ya wouldn't pull that prank on me Snipes." Scout countered playfully, meanwhile pushing himself towards the edge of the bed. Taking a much slower pace than was in his nature, Scout firmly planted his two feet on the ground and heaved a big sigh before his point of balance changed and he actually stood up. "Y-ya better keep your word." The runner spoke with a quivering voice, suddenly a whole lot more serious about the situation.

As promised, however, Sniper and Engineer stood by his sides as Scout took the first step. He lightly gritted his teeth at the sensation, but he wouldn't immediately label it as painful, just.. _weird_ and besides the whole entire idea of him being able to walk again was finally fully seeping in, pain was by far the last thing to bother him right now.

"Now will ya look at that." Engineer spoke fondly, taking a few steps away from Scout so he could take a better look, knowing Sniper would be enough of a help right now. The prosthesis was bending beautifully, flowing with and finishing the runner's movements like any normal leg would do. The joy on Scout's face was honestly to die for and with every step he took the runner became bolder and bolder, eventually even letting go of Sniper's arm to take a few steps. All on his own, Scout reached the other side of the room _and_ returned all the way back as well. Though he soon noticed that it was taking a serious toll on him, energy wise as he sat back down on the bed, chest rapidly rising and falling.

"For the next couple of days you'll have to rest a lot, but once everythin' settled your body won't need as much energy tendin' to that thing as it does now and then we can move on to different things like runnin' for example."

"Oh man, I can't freakin' wait for that! It feels like I haven't took a run in ages." He was still slightly panting from his efforts, but due to the runner's amazing condition his breathing was already reducing to a normal one. Something like this sucks the energy out of you in the start, though luckily for Scout that was something he never seemed to run out of. "Fuckin' hell this is amazin'! Engie you're such a life saver, I - I honestly don't know how to thank ya for this. I mean, I thought everythin' was freakin' over when I lost ma leg, but you thought of the greatest solution possible. You're the best man, thank you... really... thank you so freakin' much."

Engineer shrugged with a smile, that action swiftly dismissing the runner's words, believing that he shouldn't be praised for fixing his own mistake. "That's fine, Scout, no need to thank me. I'm just glad that everythin' turned out the way it did. I'd hate to see you always as unhappy as you were the last couple of days, that just ain't right. Now, I'll leave you two and remember, if anythin' is wrong, just gimme a call and I'll be right here."

Engineer left the room feeling like a whole human again, pieced back together and with a million things less on his mind. Now he'd finally be able to lock this away and leave the regrets of the blame he'd been unable to let go, behind himself. The moment that accident happened, Engineer had hoped it wasn't anything more than a bad dream, but now, with a stroke of luck, it would fade like one. 

\--


	16. Need Some Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vent fic ahead

It was getting late. The sun was setting and the earth bathed in soothing pastel colours as Scout sat on his own on a deserted battlefield, legs thrown over the side of the wooden building he was seated upon. He watched the scenery before him through a tear filled gaze, occasionally sniffling and sighing out deeply as if that alone would levitate the heavy feeling on his chest. He rubbed his eyes and cheeks when tears slid down his face, his nose now a bright red and his face puffy and flushed. Nothing particularly bad had happened that day, nothing _special_ had made him upset. Just like any other time, Scout had woken up, gotten breakfast and fought with all his might during battle. But alongside all of that, this weird feeling had remained like a whisper in the back of his head and when evening fell he finally realised that _maybe_ he wasn't as okay as he had expected to be.

He felt beaten down and dire and when this internal battle of needing to cry but not wanting to started, the runner had marched right out of the base to this very spot where he always sat these depressing moments out. Now his only company being the setting sun and the ghostly battlefield around him.

He swallowed thickly when a sudden burst of new tears welled up, trying to suppress it with all his might as he clenched his jaw tightly. He wondered, _why am I even crying?_ But the answer to that question wasn't so easy. Scout could think of ten million different reasons yet of none. Maybe it was just everything together or simply an unexplainable difficult moment, whatever it was, the runner would highly appreciate it if it went away. Sitting there and bawling for no particular reason just made him feel stupid and well, that wasn't exactly helping. He felt week, pathetic and on the verge of breaking. Truthfully, Scout didn't need a reason for _why_ he was crying, he just needed something to keep him together.

But little did Scout know that that 'something' was announcing its presence with oncoming footsteps.

"Scout?" Uncaring of what he looked like, Scout turned his head after recognizing the voice and determining that it was someone who wouldn't be surprised seeing him like this. For a brief moment the runner made eye contact with the tall man standing a stone's throw away from him, before redirecting his gaze back to the colourless land in front of him. Sniper wasn't new to this, he'd seen Scout in worse situations by now and that was clear from the way the marksman sat down next to him and carefully placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, waiting to see whether Scout would appreciate the action or not.

"Havin' a bad day?" Still not moving his gaze, Scout slowly nodded his head, once again clenching his jaw as a few more tears rolled down his cheeks. The warmth of Sniper's hand on his shoulder was creating a comforting feeling, making Scout lean a bit closer to Sniper, non - verbally telling him it was a okay to touch him.

"There a reason why you're sad?" The marksman asked, now gently closing his arms around Scout's waist and hugging him. The runner leaned into the action, melting into the embrace and slowly allowing his rigid self to relax. Though sadly, that came with a whole new outburst of tears and soon the runner was crying a bit more intense now. He couldn't help it and Sniper knew that.

"Not really." Scout croaked silently. "I'm just.. sad."

"That's okay, love." Sniper responded before lovingly placing a kiss on the crown of Scout's head. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles on the runner's skin and his steady breathing did a great job guiding Scout to control his own. "Ya just need a moment to calm down and I'm right here for ya."

A shaky little smile appeared on Scout's face as he heard that, his own hand coming up to lightly pad at Sniper's cheek in a way to say thank you and return some of the love he was being given. He really appreciated this, really appreciated Sniper. Right now, when the runner's emotions were one big mess inside him and he had no way with himself, he so desperately needed some comfort and this unexpectedly caring, soft and gentle marksman was right there to give all that to him. Sniper would hold him for hours to come, would talk to him even when there was no guarantee for a response, as long as the runner was unhappy he'd never leave his side. Not until the smile returned to his lips and he started loving his life again, not until every tear had dried up and his heart yet again thumped with excitement.

Because no matter what, Sniper loved him and it was that exact reason why Scout loved him too.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need me a freak like that, just that level of comfort w/ another person, but then again I'd rather shoot myself in the foot than cry in front of others, so


	17. Not a Word

It wasn't Sniper's best day. He felt moody, annoyed and plain tired of everything and everyone around him. It just was one of those days were nothing seemed to go right, were little was needed to agitate the hell out of him and it _showed_.

He was barely seen in the company of the rest of the team and whenever he was, not a single word left his mouth. Being even more quiet than usual, his strange behaviour hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest, the news quickly becoming a whisper within the base, but since nearly no one _really_ knew what was going on with Sniper, nobody tried.

No one besides Scout, of course.

When evening fell over the dessert of New Mexico, Sniper was cooped up in his little RV, trying to distract himself from this bad mood by reading a book, but the story fell flat, the characters were annoying and after nearly fourteen chapters still nothing interesting had happened, so it wasn't the _best_ distraction, but it was something to make this bloody day go any faster.

At a certain moment there was a gentle knock at his camper door, which Sniper subsequently ignored until it suddenly opened anyway and he understood who'd been the person knocking at his door when Scout walked in and took a seat on his couch without speaking a single word himself.

Scout was used to days like these. Days where Sniper became as inaudible as he used to be way back in the beginning of Fortress, days where the marksman had clearly _thought_ himself into a bad mood and overwhelmed himself with a certain _sadness_ he clearly couldn't place. There was no _problem_ leading up to this, besides Sniper just _being_ this dejected person at times perhaps, but that also meant that there was no direct solution to it either.

So Scout had learned over the years that as much as he wished he could just take it all away and make Sniper feel better, he couldn't. He knew it would be fruitless to yap his ears off in an attempt to get him to smile, was perfectly aware that the marksman needed some peace and quiet every once in a while to recollect himself and Scout would give that to him. But by quietly joining Sniper in his RV at least the runner let him know that he wasn't alone and he never would be.

And besides, he still had _some_ little, neat trick up his sleeve.

Strangely enough, Scout might be one of the few people Sniper could actually stand having around at times like these because he _understands_. Scout has days like these as well, has weak spots and shows them too and that's something extremely _brave_ in Sniper's eyes. He literally knows no one who wears their heart on their sleeve like Scout does and it always amazes him.

The runner has a very strong character, he is a goddamn fireworks show of a human being and that's fantastic, but there is this secluded, more gentle side to the runner as well and at times like these, were everything is just a little too much for Sniper, Scout knows exactly how to handle that and it's so surprising to see. Even if it's just silently sitting in the same room as Sniper, it means a lot.

He'd been so lost in thought, staring at the uninteresting page before him, nearly as still as a statue, that he hadn't even noticed how much time had already passed since Scout had decided to join him in his RV. He slightly shook his head, trying to get back into the book before him, until he felt Scout slightly looming over his shoulder, one of his hands tenderly resting on Sniper's shoulder.

Before Sniper could really process what was going on, Scout laid a paper onto the table, pressed a soft kiss onto the marksman's cheek and left, leaving Sniper completely baffled at those last few moments until he took a better look at the paper before himself and noticing it was a drawing.

Scout was a great artist and his work was always something intriguing to see.

But it took Sniper a little time to realise that he was looking at a drawing of _himself_ and despite the already crimson colour on his cheek due to Scout's kiss, it only darkened the longer he looked at the paper in his hands.

Scout had told him a million times before that he'd be a _great_ model, being able to stand as still for as long as he had to do sometimes. He'd enthusiastically complimented him on his posture and facial expressions more than once before, but he'd always considered it Scout's very unsubtle way of flirting, not an actual _invite_.

It was really well executed, life-like and convincing, like he'd jump right off of that paper and into the real world. The whole thing actually put a smile on Sniper's face, not only loving the drawing, but also very much enjoying the fact that someone had put so much effort and care into him.

His smile grew bigger, a hand now sliding over the cheek Scout had kissed and suddenly feeling a pleasant warmth spreading throughout his chest.

Oh God, he really loved this man.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sniper and Scout having a healthy way of communication and them knowing how to deal with one another on their bad days still makes my dick hard


	18. Not His Strong Suit

Scout got up from his chair after grabbing the papers that had just rolled freshly out of the age-old, wobbly printer, still pleasantly warm against his fingertips. The room was left unattended as he disappeared into the hallway in search for Sniper to tell him some exciting news. He scoured all throughout the base only to find him reading the paper in Scout's room twenty minutes later. The runner briefly remembered Sniper informing him about that maybe an hour ago, but it had slipped past him out of gleefulness he guessed.

"Hey yo, Snipes!" Scout announced his presence as he barged into the room with sparkling eyes and a wide grin. The marksman folded the paper into his lap, himself smiling at the sight of the runner bouncing on his feet and waving those papers around. "I got us the two plane tickets to Australia for this holiday like ya asked me!"

"Really? Ah, that's great!" Scout's smile only widened after hearing that, being the sucker for praise that he was. "Can I see 'em?"

"Yeah, sure." He handed them over and took a seat next to Sniper on the couch, slightly leaning against Sniper's side, still smiling. He was really excited about this, more excited than he ever thought he'd be. Christmas was coming in a few weeks and to Scout's utter disbelieve, Sniper had actually asked Scout if he wanted to meet his parents, considering that Sniper had already met his ma on multiple occasions and let's not _talk about fighting alongside his father every single day, ahem_.

Of course Scout was nervous about it, but that got entirely overshadowed by the thrilling feeling he'd been experiencing ever since that moment. For Scout a request like that could only mean two things; things were going good between Sniper and himself _and_ the marksman actually considered sticking around longer than Scout had expected him to, because why else would he suggest meeting his parents? Why else would he ask him to come to Australia? Maybe Scout was running ahead of himself, he'd proven to do that a _lot_ in the past, but now his head was too caught spinning in cloud nine to even consider any negatives sides to this. Nothing could ruin this, absolutely nothing.

"Err... Scout?" He distantly heard Sniper mutter after resurfacing from his thoughts.

"Hm?" 

"Ya know that this doesn't say Australia, right?" Scout's blood ran cold for a single moment, brow furrowing as he sought the paper for the destination. Once reading it again his heart calmed down and this confused grin settled on his face. Sniper can be _such_ an idiot at times.

"What are ya goin' on 'bout? It says Australia right here." He pointed it out for Sniper's troubles. "Don't scare me like that, man."

It was silent for a moment as Scout craned his head to look at Sniper, watching how he pushed his lips into a thin line, the expression in his eyes awaiting. "Love, that doesn't say Australia, it says _Austria_."

"Yeah?" Scout asked, not recognizing his mistake. "It's an abbreviation for Australia, right?"

Sniper looked back at him for a brief moment, his eyes searching Scout's countenance for any indication that he was just taking the piss, but sadly Scout _wasn't_. "Scout... I love ya, very dearly, but... Austria is a country in Europe _not_ an abbreviation for Australia."

"What? Don't be fuckin' ridiculous!" The runner countered fiercely as he snatched the papers from Sniper's hands and took another look. What the hell did Sniper think he was, an idiot? "Ya gotta stop jokin' man, that ain't funny."

It was an innocent mistake, something Scout might have sadly messed up because of his poor reading skills, but never did Sniper think he'd have to convince someone that Austria was an actual country and never did he think that that someone would be his boyfriend. It was unfortunate, perhaps Scout really just didn't know, but the runner has pride like a brick wall and at times there's absolutely nothing tearing that down.

"I don't know how to tell ya this, love, but I'm not jokin' with ya. Austria is a country on its own, a few of Medic's relatives even live there.."

"Bullshit, man! Medic's family lives in Germany, he's _German_ , remember?" Scout pressed as if Sniper was the one not understanding the situation.

"They also speak German in Austria, Scout. It's like how they also speak English in the United Kingdom and Australia, it's just with a different accent, I suppose."

Scout's face contorted in total confusion with a sniff of annoyance and irritation as he looked Sniper over. Sniper swore, from that distance he nearly saw the gears working in the runner's head. "Fuckin' cut it. Ya had your fun, now stop actin' like I'm a fuckin' idiot, alright? I've never heard of _another_ country where they speak German, now you're just makin' shit up."

Sniper buried his face in his hands to stifle a laugh. Scout was getting defensive and he knew he'd only make it worse with laughing in the middle of an ' _argument_ '. Taking a deep breath, Sniper looked back at the runner and placed a gentle hand upon his knee. "Scout, please listen to me. I ain't makin' anythin' up, alright? Austria is a _country_ which has shit to do with Australia. They're hours apart from one another. It's _not_ an abbreviation an' I'm not tryin' to poke fun at ya. I swear."

The runner's annoyed expression lingered for a moment longer before something visible cracked within him. His eyes grew bigger and his brow relaxed, now looking at Sniper as if he'd seen a ghost.

Seemed like Scout was _finally_ realising his mistake.

"Y-you're not jokin'..?"

"I am not."

"A-an' the tickets actually say _Austria_..?"

"I'm afraid so, love.."

Within an instant Scout launched himself off of that couch and onto his feet, face beet red and flushed. He harshly clutched the papers in his hands as he tried to collect every bit of himself before making a move to leave, but surprisingly Sniper had been one step ahead of him as he felt two arms enclosing around his waste from behind, hugging him tightly and keeping him close. Scout tried to wriggle himself free, mind entirely overtook with this ashamed feeling and wanting nothing more than to disappear, but it was to no avail.

He'd made a complete fool out of himself and that in front of Sniper. Fuck fuck _fuck_.

"Oi, calm down Scout! It's okay." Sniper slightly chuckled as he nuzzled the runner's neck, the blush from Scout's cheeks creeping down to his shoulders and making his skin feel feverish.

"No, it's not fuckin' okay!" He sputtered, having given up on trying to escape. "Lemme just go die somewhere, please, that was so fuckin' embarrassin'!"

"Don't be so dramatic, love. It's an innocent mistake, alright?"

"Yeah, an innocent mistake that only I can make." Scout spoke bitterly, glaring at the floor beneath his feet since he couldn't glare at Sniper for the moment. "Ya probably think I'm some sort of featherbrained fuck." Sniper sighed into Scout's left shoulder, tightening the embrace for a second as he smiled shortly after. Moments like these really reminded the marksman of how much he loved the runner.

"I don't, I know you're not an idiot, love." He said soothingly as his thumbs rubbed circles into Scout's arms and generally just tried to coax Scout into realising his rigid body. "I _do_ know what to get ya for Christmas now though."

"Oh yeah? What then?"

"A map of bloody Europe." A vexed groan tore from Scout's torso as he felt Sniper plant a chaste kiss onto his burning cheek. The marksman was chuckling, clearly enjoying himself and even though Scout still felt like sinking through the floor or locking himself up somewhere so he could forget about this as quickly as he possibly could, at least he knew Sniper's teasing was with love and no ill intensions and that's something he didn't mind at all.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scout has exactly two braincells and I love him very dearly for that


	19. Pink Means Power

"Oh c'mon Scout, how bad can it honestly be?"

"Oh... you've got _no_ idea.."

Sniper briefly wondered how he got himself in this situation. Standing there, talking to a lump of sheets that secretly hid his boyfriend away. The runner had tried dyeing his hair earlier and apparently something _terrible_ had gone wrong, because Scout hadn't come out of that spot for nearly an hour now. Sniper had been scratching his head wondering what could have gone so wrong that the runner wouldn't even consider showing him. Scout was never ashamed of anything, not even when those _manly_ screams escape him in the heat of battle. Yet something about this must be so humiliating that even Scout was bothered by it.

"Ya can't stay there forever, Scout."

"Watch me." Came the half muffled witty response. Sniper sighed, he couldn't think of one thing that would get the runner to change his mind. Once he had it set on something, you needed a holy miracle to change it. Even physically peeling away the blanket wasn't an option. Scout was holding onto it for dear life, he nearly represented a desperate mother holding her child as if people would come take it away from her.

"Are ya that embarrassed about it that ya won't even show me? C'mon Scout, ya know I wouldn't laugh at ya."

"Oh no, ya will, believe me an' I wouldn't even blame ya 'cause it's so freakin' ridiculous."

"Ain't there a single way to get ya outta there?" Sniper tried. "I hadn't really counted on my evenin' bein' me talkin' to sheets, ya know?"

"Well nothin' tells ya to stay here, does it?" Scout was starting to get irritated, the colour of his voice telling him nothing but that. It encouraged Sniper to walk on eggshells, else this whole entire thing would end in a fight. Maybe there was more to this than just a hair dye gone wrong. Scout was probably salty due to a punch in his pride or the realisation of him having to walk around with that hair had felt like a cold shower washing over him. Whatever it was, Sniper wanted to know.

"How do ya actually know it's that bad? No one else has seen it, have they? How about ya show it to me and I'll honestly tell ya how bad it is."

"Nice try, but no freakin' way." Not that the marksman had expected anything else. Reasoning with Scout whenever he's mad isn't any different from teaching politics to a two year old, it's impossible.

"Why not?"

"'cause I still want ya to like me an' I doubt ya want to be seen walkin' 'round with me right now."

"How would ya know that? I haven't even bloody seen ya, Scout." A loud groan erupted from the sheets. Usually this was a good sign, it meant that Scout was reconsidering and if Sniper played his next hand right, he'd get Scout to show what exactly was wrong.

"Can't ya guess what the hell is wrong? I really gotta show it to ya? Thought ya were a whole lot smarter than that, Snipes." The marksman chuckled, knowing Scout didn't exactly mean it that way. Grumpy Scout was really a whole thing on itself. Whenever Scout is moody, you better run for the hills because he won't show any mercy no matter _who_ you are. Not even being his boyfriend will give you a free pass.

"C'mon love," Now came the sweet talking, one of Scout's weaknesses. "what do I have to do to get ya outta there?"

"Don't bother, it ain't gonna work."

"Ya don't know that." Nearly anyone would have given up at this point. Just a simple shrug and a mindset on 'how bad can it honestly be, he'll handle it on his own' would be enough to walk straight out of there. Though, oh so wonderfully lucky for Scout, the one prying was the only person in this Godforsaken base with golden patience.

"I freakin' do, okay?"

"Hm, pretty sure ya don't." Another irritated snarl was heard and a minor shift in that mountain of sheets led Sniper to believe Scout was actually getting from underneath there. His expression fell, however, as it wasn't Scout emerging from the sheets, but a bandaged hand very promptly flipping him off. Staring with half lidded eyes at the gesture, Sniper sighed. There was no one better at striking nerves than Scout, but two can play that provoking game. If he really wanted to, Sniper knew how to get underneath the runner's skin.

"That ain't nice of ya, really. Can ya hear that?" Sniper asked. "Hm? Yeah, there in the distance that clatterin' sound? Know what that is?" Scout wasn't giving him any response, not a single thing to work with, yet Sniper kept this over dramatic act up knowing that Scout would react sooner or later. "That's my heart breakin', Scout. Into two whole pieces, impossible to repair ever again." During the whole ordeal in which the marksman whined his way through Scout's verbal absence, the runner let out an occasional grunt, sighing deeply every time Sniper's voice gained that fake level of drama until he simply couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh ma god, if I come out will ya stop whinin'? Aren't you supposed to be the guy of 'few words', introvert ma ass." The marksman smiled proudly, _finally_ the gremlin was giving this whole thing up. He'd convince Scout that this really wasn't that big of a deal and from then on it would all be sunshine an rainbows, right? Wrong. Dead wrong. Despite what the runner had said, he wasn't coming out. He sure knew how to handle this game, making Sniper wait and all.

"Ya waitin' until Christmas or?"

"Give me ma hat." That was an odd command. Sniper was actually dumbfounded by it, taking too much time to make any sense out of that for Scout's patience to handle. "Jeez Snipes, how hard is it to give me ma freakin' hat? It's on ma night stand."

"Why don't ya get it yourself?"

"Ya want me to come out or not?" Knowing that Scout had him cornered, Sniper obliged with an over exaggerated sigh as yet another reminder of this so called 'annoyance' he had. In all honesty, Sniper didn't mind Scout's grumpy moods and the colourful insults that came with it. The runner's fierce attitude never failed to make him feel alive. Scout is one thing and knowing how to handle him right in any given situation is really another, but it was never considered bothersome or a waste of time.

"Here ya go." Sniper watched how the same bandaged hand as before snuck from underneath the blanket fortress and took the hat from him. "Now are ya foinally gonna come out?"

"Yeah yeah yeah.." Scout answered dismissively without any heat behind it. He fumbled around, the sheets moving from one side to the other until, _finally_ , Scout showed his face.

"Are ya kiddin' me?" Sniper rolled his eyes as the runner emerged with his hat on, still hiding whatever embarrassing secret he had underneath it. The marksman had half a mind to just flick the cap off, the build up to this had been lingering for far too long now, he wanted to know.

"I said I'd come out, not that I'd show ya." 

"Scout come _bloody_ on! I promise whatever it is that you're tryin' to hide, it won't make me like ya any less. Ya tried colourin' your hair and apparently it didn't turn out the way ya want. Why the bloody hell would that affect _any_ of this?" Scout slowly got onto his feet, one hand gripping the front of his cap tightly as if an unknown force was trying to take it from him.

"'cause... 'cause it looks so freakin' stupid.." He whined softly. The marksman took note of the sincere tone in his voice and the slight crimson colour darkening his cheeks. In all his years working with Scout, Sniper had never seen the runner so ashamed. It nearly startled Sniper. Scout, the one person to never give a single fuck about what others thought of him, was standing right there, flushed and embarrassed.

"What has gotten into you? You usually never give a rats ass of what others think about ya!" He gently nudged the runner's arm, drawing his gaze towards his own. "Tell me, what _horrible_ thing happened that you're actin' like this?" The runner's nose wrinkled on one side as he bared his teeth for a split moment. Meanwhile his brow furrowed in annoyance as he exhaled loudly through his nostrils, showing the intense inner battle being fought within him.

"I told ya I was gonna dye the front of ma hair red, right?"

"Yeah?"

"W-well.." He gripped his arm tightly. "the colour wasn't... _exactly_ what I thought it would be an'.. err.. an' I kind a discovered it's difficult as shit to just dye one part of your hair.." Somewhere, Sniper had an idea where this was leading to and he was thanking God for that revelation because as much as he disliked it, he knew this was going to make him laugh. Watching Scout slowly grab the edges of his cap to reveal what was underneath was intense. He noticed the painful look in the runner's eyes, as if he was slowly dying inside from all this. Eventually, after pauses that seemed to last forever and many draw backs from Scout's hands, the runner got rid of his hat, revealing a bright bubblegum pink mess of hair. Sniper tried hard, oh God he tried so hard. Biting the inside of his cheek, desperately trying to find a way to swallow his laughter. Though he was quite convinced that the spark that lit up in his eyes the moment he had seen the sight, gave away more than enough. If he opened his mouth now, he'd very much lose the laughing fit he'd been fighting. 

"See? Told ya it's freakin' horrible..." Scout said as he stared the marksman straight in the face.

"N-no... what are ya talkin' about?" Sniper brought out difficultly, his laughs were caught in his throat and it was honest to god starting to hurt. "Though I'd make sure to stay away from Heavy though.."

"Huh? Why Heavy?"

"'cause 'm quite convinced he'll mistake ya for cotton candy." His barrier fell , he couldn't keep it in any longer. Slapping his hand over his mouth, Sniper wheezed from laughing barely able to catch his breath as he watched Scout going beat red, tripping over the words falling out of him.

"Y-you fuckin'- I _knew_ I couldn't... you fuckin' asshole! God I freakin' _knew_ you'd laugh!" The runner started marching off towards his door and Sniper knew he had to react now else Scout would actually get out of there.

"No-no wait Scout, I'm sorry.." He said, grabbing the runner's arm and pulling him into an iron grip. "I'm sorry for laughin' I really am. I just... hadn't counted on _this_." Another chuckle escaped him, adding much air to his words. He felt sorry for him, he really did, but he was quite convinced this was the funniest thing he'd seen in a long time. Little could manage to make him laugh so outright, so honest and sincere.

"You're a fuckin' asshole.."

"I know, I know and I give ya all the right to call me every dirty name in the book, but listen for a second, alright?" Scout didn't answer, his annoyed gaze looking at everything except Sniper. "Look I know you're real upset about this, but there is honestly nothing to really worry abo-"

"Says the guy who had to wipe away feakin' _tears_ 'cause he was laughin' so much!"

"Hear me out, love." Scout gave him a mean shove, before letting him continue. "Yeah people are indeed gonna laugh, but no one here actually wants to hurt ya Scout. If someone laughs, it's 'cause they didn't expect it, not 'cause they wanne hurt you and besides your cap hid it away nicely. It ain't as if there isn't a single way to get around this, right?" Finally, his gaze rose to meet Sniper's. The marksman could see the thoughts flash in those fierce blue bolds, maybe his words were getting to him in some level. Eventually Scout dropped his gaze yet again as he feebly poked Sniper's chest.

"You're still an asshole." He said. "But.. I guess you're right.. God I was so freakin' stupid to even try this..." The marksman brought his hand up to ruffle the soft pink locks.

"I don't know, love, I'm convinced I'll get used to this. I'd be lyin' if I said it doesn't make ya look cute."

"Call me whatever. Pink hair or not, I can still kick your ass." Sniper chuckled before lowering his head to press a suiting kiss to the runner's lips. This fierce, brave, heated, pink haired man was one of the best things to ever happen to him and it was moments like these that reminded him of that fact.

"Of course, Scout, _of course_."

\-- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pink hair is lit man


	20. Relax Lad

By this point, annoyance was the only thing driving him. Nothing was going the way he wanted it to go. Sentries shredded his skin, stickies blew him into pieces and if, by some miracle, Scout did manage to get to the BLU base without any of those other things stopping him in his wake, that French son of a bitch would most definitely put his lights out before the runner could even _think_ about getting the intelligence. It was unfair, so freaking unfair! Each and every single day Scout had the feeling he was the only one pushing the team, scoring points and getting victories. Without him, RED wouldn't be anywhere near as close to where they were now. But did he ever get a _thank you_? A _'hey Scout you're doing great! You sure are the greatest person to ever exist!_ '? No! And whenever the runner had an off day, which he was experiencing right now, and someone dared to slip in witty comments about how shitty his stats were, the runner didn't even bother hiding his agitation.

They really had no idea how _lucky_ they were to have him on their shithole of a team!

Opening his eyes, Scout yet again awoke in respawn. God - fucking - damn it! He couldn't believe this! The runner had bypassed their frontlines, sped by traps and even outsmarted the BLU's fire bug, but a fucking _butterfly_ knife is what killed him? Spy had it easy! As long as he played that provoking game he was _way too fucking_ good at, he was fine. Scout didn't have a gun that killed people after only one hit, not even a baseball bat that came close to such power, but _sure_ the wimpiest weapon of all is what did the trick, fucking great. 

All of this was tiring, he didn't feel any better than a cat fruitlessly chasing a laser dot. Honestly, Scout saw no use in going out there anymore. The day had been pure shit, ruined far past the possibility of getting fixed by _anything_. Not even Tom Jones _himself_ bursting in there and putting on a show like he's never seen one would shift anything in Scout's mood.

"Fuckin' hell!" Scout couldn't help but curse as he punched his locker. Hearing it rattle, threatening to fall apart and things falling over in it only worsened Scout's state. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt like this, so worked up and utterly frustrated about the fact that he was entirely powerless to do anything about the situation. No wait, scratch that, he did. A few months back Scout had experienced this same type of rage after Spy just couldn't stop teasing him about something. Stupidly, Scout had been a bit _too_ obvious about his head over heal crush. You know, the typical. Staring for far too long, stuttering whenever that one particular person talked to him or, worst of all, blushing like a twelve year old. Of course Spy had noticed, honestly what didn't he notice and against better judgement, the Frenchman apparently had nothing better to do than pester Scout until he'd physically force Spy to stop. That day had ended with Scout nearly breaking the frog's nose.

Sighing deeper than he had done in a long time, Scout rested his forehead against his locker, closely watching the dent he had put there himself by punching it. This was all fucking bullshit. Mann CO, that idiotic briefcase, his colleagues and don't even get him _started_ on The Administrator's voice. Just thinking about it already granted him with a hammering headache. Fuck this, fuck all of this, every square inch, every grain of sand, every imbecile working their frustration out on him, fuck. it. right. to. _hell._

Being far too caught up in repeating the action of bumping his head against his locker in what really was a gentle rhythm, Scout didn't notice a hand on his shoulder at first. Only when it migrated towards his neck and softly squeezed he noticed, when the runner felt a surprising calm coat him from head to toe.

"You alright, mate?" Instead of jolting in embarrassment, barely a high pitched broken squeak escaping him, Scout actually relaxed more upon hearing that low Aussie accented voice ask him that. He had no idea how, but it was comforting all the same. That hand softly massaging his neck and then being talked to in such a soothing manner, the runner really couldn't bring himself to care whether Sniper had seen him throwing his fit or not.

"Yeah." He muttered, head still resting against the abused locker. 

"You ain't lookin' the part, what's wrong?"

"It's just.." Quicker than light could travel, Scout had an inner debate on what to do. For whatever reason, a part of him told him to keep to himself and not be a whining bitch for one moment, but that resistance faltered without a moment's notice as suddenly words spilled out him like a broken clock would struck the hour. "eveythin' is so shit! Even if I manage to dodge everythin' the other team throws at me, I still get killed by that _nasty_ son of a bitch!"

"Spook?"

"Yeah, him! God I fuckin' hate 'em so fuckin' much! I just want to twist that fuckin' shit eatin' grin of his an' shove it so far up his ass, he'll feel his it at the back of his tongue!" As Sniper yet again gently squeezed Scout's neck, the feeling of wanting to punch his locker got swept away like one would do a bug.

"Relax lad, ain't no use gettin' this worked up over Spook, alright? You're just havin' a bad day, happens to everyone."

"It fuckin' sucks." The runner whined, casting his eyes away from the taller man. He had no idea why Sniper was doing this, bothering to calm him down, but Scout would be lying if he said he hated it. As a matter of fact, this was a dream come true. Who wouldn't want to be given such attention by none other than their own crush, right?

"I know, but standin' here, punchin' your locker until there's barely anythin' left of it ain't the answer either, Scout. Concentrate, alright? I know ya can do this." Now Sniper had both hands on the runner's shoulder and Scout was surprisingly managing to keep a cool act... if it wasn't for that dark crimson colour coating his cheeks as if he were rocking a fever or something. Not one freckle was visible, all swallowed up by that _shameful_ blushing. "Think, Spook's killed ya enough times now for you to know where he should be and what he'll do once ya get there. Use that knowledge to bypass 'em now, got it?" Giving that a thought, Scout suddenly beamed with energy. Sniper was right, of course he was! All day long Scout had been holding himself back by getting angry whenever misfortune stopped him in his tries and since his only reaction had been dashing right back into action instead of standing still for a second and _think_ , it was no surprise things had gone the way they did.

"You're right!" Scout agreed, sudden gleefulness bursting at his seems as he, in the heat of the moment, threw his arms around Sniper's waste, hugged him tight and ran off with a new plan in mind. The runner shouted a last "Thanks Snipes, you're the best!" before leaving respawn entirely, heart hammering viciously in his chest.

This _crush_ was getting out of hand and Scout was well aware of that.

\--


	21. Sniffles and Naps

God it was cold. It was that time of the year again. That time where t - shirts turned into sweaters and scarfs hung pointlessly around people's necks as some sort of useless protection for the harsh slap winter presented itself with. The freezing cold would neck nearly anyone daring to go outside, but that _obviously_ didn't apply to these nine mercenaries - for - hire as they simply saw no use in ceasing this Godforsaken war. Whether it was ninety degrees or a whopping two, these sturdy, determent, courageous, witty and strong - minded men would push on _no matter_ the circumstances... or maybe because their contracts told them to and any whining would land their asses jobless.. or _whatever_. 

Anyway, yet another day of this tiresome battle would start as Sniper grudgingly stood about in the spawn room with his rifle on his back, a thicker vest and half his face shielded by an ugly company scarf given by RED once a very long time ago. His watchful gaze scanning the room even in his morning daze as he soon noticed the lack of someone happily jumping around as if his feet were on fire. Where was Scout? As if someone could hear him think, a soft nudge against his arm and a week "Hiya Snipes" served as enough of an answer for the Aussie. Looking down expecting to see that default grin the runner always wore, Sniper was rather surprised at the sight meeting him. A red nose standing out like a sore thumb on the runner's pale skin as a slight fever blush swallowed every single freckle on his cheekbones. His teary eyes closing with every cough and sniffle escaping him as he threw his arms around himself to gain as much warmth from the sweater he was wearing as possible, despite the hotness basically radiating off of him.

"You okay, mate?" The marksman asked with a cocked eyebrow. It looked like a cold or maybe even the flu had gotten him seriously under the weather, but knowing Scout, he wasn't about to _actually_ admit he was sick and decide to sit this day out.

"Yeah Snipes, I'm totally fine, entirely okay." He called meekly with a hoarse voice, the nasal undertone not really helping his case. The runner coughed harshly, groaning quietly from the intense pain that must have erupted in his sore throat before resuming; "Completely fine."

"One more and I'll believe ya." Scout opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it again realising that starting this discussion would be a waste of anyone's time. Sniper was very much onto him. What did he honestly think anyway? Standing there convincingly trying to show he was fine while in the meantime his brain was slowly cooking from the headache hammering in his head and the fever leaving him shivering despite his temperature. Sighing deeply, the runner massaged his temple in an attempt to suit the throbbing feeling making him feel heavy and sluggish. "What are ya honestly doin' here, Scout? You're sick."

"I'm.. I'm not." Oh God Sniper was giving him _that_ look again. That one expression basically telling him _'What are you trying here, I'm not a fucking idiot'_ without needing the words. Scout huffed, nuzzling half his face into the soft and warm fabric of the scarf he was wearing. One his ma had send to him in a care package about a month ago. He wasn't about to use that pathetic excuse of a garment RED had given them when his mother's handy work was the other, and _better_ , option. "M-maybe I'm havin' a stupid lil' cold yeah... but nothin' to keep me off of the battlefield!"

"You bloody-" Sniper sighed deeply, placing his hand atop Scout's forehead while gently holding the runner in place with the other. "You're burnin' up, Scout. Ya can't fight like this, it'll only make ya sicker." Grinning sheepishly, Scout very much enjoyed the gentleness in which Sniper was trying to convince him to go back to base and sweat this fever out. Sniper was jack shit at trying to hide his worry, but that was nothing new to Scout.

"I dunno... I'm really not feelin' like goin' back to base an' bein' on ma own all day 'till you guys return.."

"How about this," Sniper started, wrapping his arms around Scout knowing full well it was easier to convince him when showing affection. "go back to my RV and the moment the fight's done I promise ya won't be alone for the rest of the day. That sounds good?" Resting his cheek against Sniper's chest, Scout sniffed before slowly nodding his head.

"A-alright... suppose I won't be much of a help here anyway.." He admitted with a slight grudge. "Any chance ya have anythin' of a pain killer at your RV?"

"I'll have to disappoint ya there, ya know Medic doesn't allow us to have medicine without his prescription." The runner sighed deeply at the fact that he'd have to spend the rest of his day with this frustrating and painful throbbing of his head and a sore throat and a stuffed nose and this burning feeling in his chest from coughing and... okay yeah, Scout was sicker than originally thought... Sniper may have had a point there. "Talkin' about Medic, ya should see 'em after work."

"For a stupid cold? Ya kiddin' me?"

"I'm quite convinced ya got the flu, love and if ya want painkillers for your headache or whatever, ya know ya won't be able to get 'em without goin' to the doc." Scout gently poked the marksman's chest in thought, biting the inside of his cheek as a subconscious activity not really sure if he was going to ask this next question or not. Predictably he eventually _did_ ask.

"Would ya mind comin' with me then?"

"'course not." Sniper chuckled. The sudden shriek of the Administrator's voice boomed throughout the respawn room as she warned the team for the last sixty seconds before battle. Noising his displeasure by groaning loudly, Scout let go of the hug not liking the fact that he'd be facing a day all on his own _just_ because he was sick. He wasn't going to complain about the fact, however, that he was allowed to spend it in Sniper's RV. That brick on wheels wasn't only cosy, but warm and very home like as well and it didn't hurt that Sniper's smell was all over the place. It beat spending the day in his grey room by ten miles, that's for sure.

"Alright love, get your butt back to base. Before ya know it, I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay Snipes, go kick ass for me, alright? An' keep yourself a bit safe, of course."

"Always, now off ya go." The marksman gave a soft push in Scout's back to send him on his way as he heard the Administrator counting down from twenty now. Somewhere Scout was real glad he didn't have to go through the bother of running around and dying a million times over that day. And honestly, there were more terrible things to do than spending the day in Sniper's RV. One of the best things, next to its owner _of course_ , this damned place had to offer and for one day it was entirely his.

**********************

Just as he had promised, the moment work was done Sniper had marched straight out of spawn towards his RV. Hoping Scout had managed to entertain himself in one way or another, the marksman wasn't really sure what he'd come across once he got there. As long as the place wasn't ravaged, as Scout tended to do with his surroundings once bored, there wouldn't be a problem. Not that there would be one _if_ the place was a mess, but still, Sniper just liked his little home clean and somewhere he was convinced Scout knew that.

Opening the door to the camper, the marksman finally noticed how _silent_ the place was. Usually an all too enthusiastic Scout would dart out his way whenever they hadn't seen each other for a bit or at least he'd say _something_. Maybe he was simply too sick, Sniper's logic told himself. But as he suddenly spot the sleeping form of the runner on his couch everything made a little more sense. Softly closing the door behind him so he wouldn't wake Scout, Sniper walked closer to take a better look. He almost looked _sweet_ like that, so innocent and untouched, as if he wasn't a daring mercenary paid to murder people every day. Next to that, Sniper noted Scout had shamelessly wrapped himself into one of Sniper's polo's. A perfect fit for the marksman, but _way_ too big for him of course, which was probably the reason why Scout had even bothered putting it on. It would keep him warm and the Aussie couldn't help but to smile at how unbelievably _cute_ he was right now.

He honestly saw no use in waking him up, Medic wasn't going to run away (or at least he hoped he wouldn't). Once Scout would wake up, they'd go. Right now, he'd let the little gremlin enjoy his rest.

Throwing a blanket over him to make sure he was as comfortable as possible, Sniper gently stroked Scout's hair before softly kissing his forehead. Poor thing, it wasn't right seeing him this sick, this drained from energy. But he knew _soon_ , this ball of energy would very much be back doing exactly what he was notorious for; being loud, being obnoxious and just being himself. Exactly _everything_ he loved about the runner.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scout is babey ;-;


	22. Soft

It was late, or so Scout guessed. He honestly didn't really know. Time had seemed to completely melt away from the moment they'd crashed onto the couch to watch a movie, with Sniper using Scout's tummy as a makeshift pillow, until now. It didn't really matter, however. Things were _nice_ and calming, even to him, so he couldn't care less about slapping an exact hour on this moment. Things were good.

The movie had been working itself through some conflict Scout didn't care to understand as outside, the sky had lost its colour just as quickly as time had passed by the both of them. It really was one of _those_ nights. Nights that never seemed to be without an end, yet strangely they were never long enough. A minute could last for nothing longer than a second or it could last an entire life time.

He looked down, down at where Sniper had his arms wrapped around Scout's middle and the rest of him had settled between the runner's legs for a more comfortable position. The marksman's breathing was steady and slow, but the occasional shift of his head gave away that he wasn't exactly sleeping just yet.

But Scout had a hunch it wouldn't take too long anyway. Soon the marksman would be very soundly sleeping, because he had _just_ the right trick for that.

Gently he trailed his hands upwards from where they had been lightly gripping Sniper's shirt, migrating from his shoulders to his head, where the runner ran a light hand through Sniper's hair for a moment. He repeated that action a few times over, simply enjoying the soft locks between his fingers as he felt the marksman settle more against him, clearly enjoying the treatment as he let out a long blissful sigh and making Scout smile.

It'd been a long week for the both of them. Long and tiring, like a cycle with no end. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, they were all the same to Scout. They were days so similar that the runner never questioned to separate them, experiencing that time as a grey area that only consists of eating, sleeping, fighting, running and doing it all again the next day, until finally Friday arrives. It's the one day to pull him back to reality, the one evening to remind the runner that maybe his life wasn't a dead end cycle and that he absolutely shouldn't treat it that way either. He had a _relationship_ , had free time, had hobbies to enjoy and he had a goddamn _mind_ that ran of its own accord and not because of orders he'd been given. Now he was allowed to occupy it with things entirely of his own choosing.

That's why he enjoyed moments like these so much. Now he didn't care about time for a whole entire different reason. Sniper was just as tired as he was, perhaps even more and having the Australian so utterly uncaring and sprawled out on top of him, half covering Scout's body, really was everything he could ask for. The closeness, the connection, it was all there within the gesture of them watching a movie together and falling asleep in each other's arms.

And Scout? He _absolutely_ _loved it_.

His hands were in constant motion, either slowly and lovingly stroking Sniper's soft hair or gently scratching at his scalp. He smoothed it down over and over again, hypnotizing himself with the way his fingers combed through the marksman's hair and watching Sniper's eyes flutter shut for a moment. The action making Scout smile again, knowing his tactics were working.

They reopened a few times, seeming as if Sniper constantly slipped in and out of consciousness until eventually he gave in and fell asleep. Scout, planning on soon joining Sniper now that their position was so immensely comfortable and being surprised he'd managed to stay awake that long himself, leaned down to plant a kiss on the crown of Sniper's head, whispering a last, "Sleep tight, babe", before settling back against the couch's arm and trying to get some shut eye himself.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scout *and* Sniper are babey ;-;


	23. Take Me To Church

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is about homophobia and the word faggot gets used in it near the end, so take care! Also the ships Napoleon Compelx (Spy x Engineer) and Red Oktoberfest (Heavy x Medic) are featured in this too and if that's not your cup of tea, I'd say skip this one

No one knew how something like this could have possibly spiralled out of control this badly, how something like this was even _possible_. It had started with nothing but some shady looking guys knocking on the base door demanding that certain people would come with them. No names, only codenames. Unfriendly and without so much of a spot emotion in their voices they had asked for Engineer, Medic, Heavy, Scout, Spy, Sniper and Miss Pauling as if they were nothing more than objects ready for some sort of trait. No one understood why exactly they had to come with and even less what was going to happen to them once they did.

Eventually, however, the men explained, an explanation that had everyone's stomach turning with fright. Apparently, a programme had been kicked off, a special action that allowed for a certain part of the FBI to remove every queer person from whatever force they were in, including Fortress. Worried and confused looks had been shared, how could they possibly know information like this? But after one of the men informed them that a reliable source had given it to them, enough had been said for the chosen mercs and Miss Pauling to tie the edges of it together. The Administrator had sold them out, turns out they weren't as safe from all that at Fortress as they expected to be. 

This place was a true _nightmare_. Hundreds maybe thousands of people had been shoved together in some sort of hangar, all afraid what might actually happen to them. It was cold as shit despite the amount of people present and the tired and famished outlooks on everyone's faces as they desperately searched their surroundings was to honestly cry for. They were like rats, no one telling them a thing yet just _having_ to accept their faiths no matter what would be waiting for them at the end of the line.

Somewhere, Sniper had a clear idea of what was going to happen to them, what people like that did to innocent souls like them just because of their sexual orientation. He'd seen this before, maybe not on such a scale, but back home in Australia he'd seen his fare share of people getting beaten up, hell even murdered, for who they were and now here _he_ was, together with Scout, Engineer, Spy, Heavy Medic, Miss Pauling and thousands of other people afraid, petrified that they'd never see the light of day again.

"How can something like this even be possible..?" Medic asked shakily, his blue eyes peering right over the brim of his broken glasses, which was the work of some asshole who very much hated Medic asking questions and punching him right in the face as a result of that. He soon regretted his actions, however, when Heavy stepped into the picture paying him back by completely _crushing_ the guy and only backing off when other people pointed guns at him.

"We have to make our escape, there is _no way_ that we are staying here locked up like animals." Spy spat out, the entire situation had him on edge, but the fact that they had ripped his cigarettes from him had probably only made that worse. He was used to smoking like a chimney any time of day and now he hadn't had _one_ smoke in five full hours, if this wasn't hell, for Spy it was getting pretty close. "I mean, look around yourselves! How can they contain such a mess of people, _how_ can they keep highly trained militaries, policemen and women and people like _us_ at bay?" Next to him, Engineer shook his head in a defeated manner, meanwhile soothingly patting the Frenchman's back. Spy had made a point, Sniper thought as he watched the two. The hangar was filled with people who were _trained_ to do what they did. Militaries, police control even security guards and agents from the FBI itself were all locked up together yet despite their numbers, despite their skills, nobody did a _thing_.

"I think we can keep breakin' our heads over this as much as we want to, there ain't gonna be an answer to this." Engineer croaked sadly, his gaze sliding from person to person only to stop at Spy who was sitting there, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists against his trousers out of pure frustration. "We all know this is beyond crazy, but 'm afraid it's a sad case of history repeatin' itself. We're the minority, a threatenin' minority and I suppose the government or whatever big boss who gave the orders to do this wants nothin' else than to get rid of us."

"I still can't believe the Administrator did this to us." Miss Pauling suddenly voiced, she had been rather quiet up until this point, Sniper had nearly forgotten that she was in this mess with them. The poor girl, she had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Originally she didn't have to be at base when those men showed up, but as they did and names started to drop she had wondered what all that was about only to be asked if she listened to the name "Miss Pauling" in which a pair of anonymous eyes roamed the list in his hands eventually announcing that she too had to come with them. "I... I thought there was _some_ trust between us and her, I mean I did everything for her, but all she did was sell all of us out." She brushed a few stray hairs behind her ear, glasses a tad bit crooked which only made her appear defeated and tired. So young, Sniper thought, so young and caught within the fucked up ways of close minded people, only that needed to remind him of a certain someone else...

"She is witch and she always has been." Heavy commented, the look on his face telling everybody that he wasn't going to let this happen to him, to any of them. He was about the _only_ person to look a bit determent, to look as if there was no way that they could touch him and get away with it too. "I agree with Spy, we should get out of here, all of us should. There has to be a way to overpower the enemy, we outnumber them with ease." 

"If we _all_ work together, there could be a chance of survival... right?" The German wondered as he looked around himself, the earlier waver in his voice settling due to the confidence Heavy provided. Whether it was an act or not, the Russian sure knew how to keep a spirit up.

"I do not see why not." Spy answered far more calmer than before. He had somewhat managed to compose himself, to gather every piece of him and keep it together like he _usually_ would.

They discussed a plan, pinpointed when exactly they'd start informing the strangers around them and how they were going to overpower armed guards. Every idea was more insane than the other, but then again this _whole thing_ was far beyond the limits of anyone's imaginations, no scratch that, anyone's deepest fears. People were going to fall, lives were going to be lost, but if they stayed there cowering away like wounded animals _everyone_ was going to lose this unspoken battle. Even if it meant only a little percentage of them surviving, wasn't it worth a shot?

"Everybody knows what they have to do?" They nodded as to confirm Miss Pauling's question. They had a plan and even though it seemed rather unobtainable, at least _some_ ground rules had been set giving a bigger confidence boost than they had expected.

Though right before something could be set in motion, a thought arrived in Sniper's head. During the discussion he hadn't heard Scout once, which was considered odd since well... Scout. Now all throughout the time they've been there, the runner had been quite silent and even though he'd rather eat glass than to admit it, the reason for his stillness was because Scout was terrified. Just like anyone else, yet to the runner it was some sort of _big deal_ outing any other emotion than anger and happiness.

Turning his head to the right, the marksman's brow furrowed upon finding a blank spot where the runner used to be. An uneasy feeling settled in his gut, he didn't like this. Standing up from his seat to take a better look around, the others followed him in his movement as they questioned what the hell he was doing. He didn't hear them however, the loud thoughts in his mind trying to sooth his worry overpowering anything they might try to ask him. Though as Miss Pauling tugged at his arm, she tugged him right back to earth as well.

"Sniper, what's going on?"

"Err..." He muttered. "Just, has anyone seen Scout?" Gazes crossed each other, the expressions in their eyes saying nothing more than "Oh right... Scout was here too!" Without another word shared between them the others looked around them as well, eyes squint shut to peer around the massive group of people, all but searching for a black cap and a bright red t - shirt.

Sniper looked on as well, craning his neck to see far beyond the crowd of people only to slightly slump back when not a sign of him could be seen. Though right as he was about to turn back, see how the other's were doing on finding him, struggled movement off at the far end of the hangar caught his eye. He watched it like a hawk, an intense gaze all but trying to understand what was going on.

But as it all cleared up, as his mind caught on with what his eyes were seeing, Sniper's blood ran ice cold.

Unbeknownst to what his limbs were doing, Sniper started to move forward pushing himself through the crowd slowly picking up speed as the sight of a man dragging Scout out of the crowd by his _hair_ only spurred him on. He heard his teammates yell for him, but every word drowned in the sea his head was currently swimming in. All he could was watch how the young man struggled against the hand firmly holding him in place as he got dragged further away to some sort of podium of some kind Sniper hadn't even noticed when they first arrived. The closer Sniper got, the more he started to get a grip on the situation. Finally he started to understand what it meant when he saw the guy dragging Scout _up_ the podium and forcing the runner down onto his knees. His heart pounded loudly for everyone to hear, mouth opening only to yell Scout's name, even his _real_ name slipped off of his tongue. To no avail, however, because Scout couldn't hear him.

His teammates had caught up with him, the force in which they were also trying to get through now telling Sniper that they too had seen the sight. He had no idea what Scout had gotten himself into, why exactly _he_ was the one being dragged onto that podium, but the sight of it alone was enough to show that there was trouble on the horizon.

They pushed and pushed, eventually arriving at the edge of the crowd, only standing a few feet away from the podium. The marksman repeated Scout's name, this time knowing that he could actually hear him and as the runner lifted his head and their gazes crossed a quivering smile appeared on his lips. He wanted to shout something back, wanted to stand up and get back to his team, back to Sniper, but as suddenly a hand yet again grabbed him by the hair, eyes growing wider than ever and the barrel of a gun was pressed against his temple, Sniper's heart stopped.

The sound was deafening, the ringing of the gunshot echoing through his head as he watched Scout's lifeless body collapse to the ground once the man let go of his hair. It felt as if someone was in the middle of ripping his guts out, pierced a claw through his chest or broke both his knees. Scout was _dead_ , that corpse with a part of his brain blown out was Scout, _his_ Scout and now he was gone.

Once the shocked gloom started to fade, another emotion bubbled up within Sniper, though it seemed like he wasn't the only one. Next to him, Spy was violently clenching his jaw, expression turning darker with every passing second as he made a visible move for the pocket that usually held his butterfly knife only to find that it was empty. Being weapon less didn't stop him however, driven by the trauma of seeing your own child get killed _right_ in front of you, Spy wanted to dart out, grab the first guard he could get his hands on and strangle him to death. Though as he was about to do exactly that, there was a force stopping him in his wake, that force being Engineer grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back so he too wouldn't get himself killed. The look in the hardhat's eyes as he held back a _flaming_ Spy was saddening. As much as he himself wanted to avenge their youngest teammate, the boy who had become some sort of _son_ to him, he knew he couldn't. The enemy was too strong, too willing to get their way.

Don't start fights you can't win, a golden rule they all had learned to live by. But as Sniper stood there, slowly brewing a vast anger from deep inside, that piece of advice flew right over his head.

"You fuckin' animals." The marksman growled with a voice so low it was barely understandable. The guy who had killed Scout smirked as he heard the insult, his gaze lowering from the podium to look directly at Sniper.

"What was that? I'm afraid I didn't exactly catch that." Instead of answering the guy, actually repeating what he had said and giving that freak what he wanted, Sniper simply set one step forward towards the podium. Apparently that _one_ movement was more threatening than words could be because the look in the guy's eyes changed as he reached for the same gun that had rested against Scout's temple moments before. "Don't fucking move!" He ordered as the marksman took another seemingly harmless step. The guy's threats became more brutal, more pressing and when he actually started pointing the gun at Sniper, the marksman felt two thin arms wrap around his waist from behind and the feel of someone burying their face into his back.

"S-Sniper don't be so stupid!" Miss Pauling sobbed loudly. "You want to get killed too?! Isn't it bad - bad enough that we lost Scout?" Sniper knew he was wrong for ignoring her distressed rambling, but his emotions overpowered his common sense, brain defeated by his heart. Repeating the same movement as before, the grip around his waist tightened as she continued to beg.

"One more step and I'll blow your fucking brains out, _just_ like I did with that other faggot!" The guy warned as he pressed the gun against Sniper's head this time.

"Go ahead." The marksman spoke calmly not once breaking eye contact with his offender. "Shoot me, ya bloody lunatic."

"S-sniper please..." Her begging was heartbreaking, but Sniper's heart was already broken. It had shattered into pieces the moment he watched a bullet puncture its way into Scout's skull. Right now nothing mattered to him anymore, nothing except the fact that Scout was dead. So there he stood, awaiting the moment to be killed without respawn being there to take care of it.

**********************

He couldn't remember the last time he jolted awake as violently as he did now, but with a heaving chest and sweat dotting his brow Sniper suddenly awoke from a deep sleep. Anxiously looking around the darkness surrounding him, Sniper had no idea whether this was a dream or if he had awoken from a nightmare. The setting felt familiar however and the softness of blankets and a mattress gave away that he _was_ in his bunk bed, but still, you never know with this kind of things. There was one thing though that convinced him that this was real and that was the runner who had also woken up due to Sniper's frantic movements, now sitting up still drowsy from the sleep.

As Sniper saw him, alive and well, all the emotions from his nightmare came flying right back. Overjoyed the marksman hugged Scout closely, happy to see that they weren't in a hangar somewhere having to fear for their lives.

"Woah, hey Snipes, you good?" He didn't answer Scout, instead burying his face into the crook of the runner's neck and hugging him as if he were a stuffed animal. Scout's hands hesitantly slid up his back, soothingly hugging him back even though he had too little to make sense off. "Snipes?" He tried again, but the marksman still didn't react, he was far too busy listening to the runner's heartbeat, constantly telling himself that Scout wasn't dead, was _not_ dead.

"Did ya have a nightmare or somethin'?" Some sort of affirmative groan escaped Sniper, still far too caught up in his emotions to form an actual response. "That's odd, ya hardly have any o' those." Scout announced as he ran his hand through Sniper's hair, probably yet another try on soothing him. "Ya wanne talk 'bout it? Tell me what it was 'bout?" Sniper just shook his head, he wasn't exactly feeling like reliving that horrid thing. He felt the runner shrug before responding. "That's fine, ya can tell me tomorrow or anytime really."

They sat there for a while, a comfortable silence for Sniper to bask in after that unforgiving nightmare. He felt himself calming down, he had been holding Scout long enough now to actually believe that he was still alive, surely when the runner leaned down and kissed the crown of his head. His eyelids grew heavy once more, yet there was this one thought bouncing around his head like a rubber ball, forcing him to stay awake.

Maybe that dream had tried to show him _more_ than just the fear of losing Scout. Truthfully, if he looked beyond Scout's death, perhaps that aching feeling in his chest was from more than that, maybe somewhere deep down inside himself there was a secluded fear of what people outside Fortress would do to him if they ever found out what he truly was. His believes were contrary to the rest, to still _so many people_ out there he and Scout, and some others out there, were unclean and barely considered human beings. Some people's way of thinking was so backwards, it was honestly poignant.

He never _ever_ wanted to lose Scout and surely not to something as hateful and cruel as that. Killing people for who they are and what they stand for? Humanity couldn't stoop any lower.

\--


	24. Troubles In Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is actually more centered around Heavy and Medic (so again if that's not your cup of tea, feel free to skip) but Speeding Bullet also plays an important role, so I had to include it

Sometimes, when Medic was still busying himself filling in paper work or working on the medical profiles of certain teammates, Heavy would take a seat on the other side of Medic's desk and start reading a book. This way he wouldn't bother the German, but there'd still be that atmosphere where they enjoy each other's company. Either way, Medic really appreciated the fact that Heavy was perfectly content sitting still and reading for more than two hours sometimes as long as he was with Medic. Just thinking about the fact that there was someone so smitten with him turned Medic fuzzy from the inside out. After all his years of daring the rules of modern medicine _and_ losing his medical license, the German never thought redemption would be possible for someone as far gone as him, but there he was with his redemption sitting right across from him.

Taking a blissful moment to look up from his paperwork, a smile grew on Medic's lips as he watched Heavy reading the book in his hands with a furrowed brow out of sheer concentration. The German got a bit carried away with trying to remember every part of Heavy's features, his ice-blue eyes roaming inch per inch, the smile on his lips going soft as his hand ceased writing as nearly every bit of his concentration was now carried over to his lover. These moments were the soul reason Medic woke up in the morning, it made the world a more gentle place and distracted Medic long enough to make him forget about the more shitty parts life has to offer. Maybe it's all a great lie wrapped up in this beautiful disguise and soon this'll all be taken away from him, but within this moment, this pure moment, Medic can't get himself to care. He knows he doesn't deserve someone as Heavy, but that isn't stopping him from enjoying the living daylights out of this. Hell can crush his ass when he's dead.

"Why is doctor staring?" The casualness in which Heavy asked that question without even looking up from his book startled Medic, now pathetically sputtering out unintelligible excuses before gripping his pen tightly again and recollecting himself. Rather embarrassed and with a crimson colour coating his cheeks, Medic pushed his glasses back into place before clearing his throat, suddenly looking a whole lot more serious than when he was wandering off into dream world.

"I was not staring, schatz. I was... _examining_."

"Oh really?" Heavy countered with a daring grin, putting his book aside as he'd determent that the conversation they were about to have was way more interesting than whatever internal conflict the main character was bitching about. "And what has doctor found while examining?"

Trying to match, hell even outdo, Heavy's grin, Medic leaned onto his elbows as he placed his hands underneath his chin. He knew he looked no better than some teenage girl rocking a fever crush, but Heavy had seen Medic in nearly every situation imaginable already, this little act wasn't going to surprise the Russian.

"Oh just that the person sitting across from me is one of the sweetest people God ever breathed life into." Even though it was even imaginably impossible, Heavy didn't need to look at Medic to hear the smirk creep into his voice. It wasn't in Medic's usual behaviour to act like this, but after a long tiresome week of being the team's personal nanny, the Russian knew Medic appreciated the hell out of these moments and that's really all he wanted. Seeing Medic smile was the biggest accomplishment for Heavy, it was like a fulfilled mission and a satisfying reward in one. 

"If you keep going like that, you will make Heavy blush." The Russian answered, his words thickly layered with good-hearted sarcasm, not the type that could possibly hurt Medic's feelings or confuse him. In the past, Heavy had already noticed the German wasn't the best with sarcasm, so he better not start exploring his boundaries and accidently ruin their bond. "I do have to say, you have excellent examining skills doctor."

"Oh look at you being so clever." The German playfully rolled his eyes before leaning a bit closer and pressing a chaste kiss to his lover's lips. Normally he would find himself stupid for this warmth pooling into his chest and that bittersweet feeling of being in love, but right now everything was just a tad bit too perfect to let it be ruined by the minefield that was his own mind. Let him have these moments, okay?

Though as Heavy and Medic got a bit lost goofily staring and smiling at each other, the doors of the medbay flew open with angered flee, causing for both Heavy and Medic to look at the person waltzing in there red-faced and totally pissed off. 

"Good evening, Scout." Medic stared confused at their youngest teammate, not really understanding why he'd walked in there looking like a tomato. "Everything okay, Scout?"

"Fuckin' no." The runner answered, promptly sitting himself down on Medic's examining table. He huffed loudly as he crossed his arms over his chest and harshly clenched his jaw. The sight sparked a bit of worry in Medic, but more because he'd fear Scout was going to pop a tooth than anything else really.

"What is problem, Scout?" Heavy offered after having shared a concerned look with Medic. This wasn't the first time Scout did this. Whenever something was bothering or upsetting him, Scout would go to Medic and Heavy for advice. They were wise, they knew stuff Scout's complicated brain would brush over, but most of all they served as some sort of guardians Scout never had and maybe that's why Medic and Heavy didn't mind this as much. They couldn't blame the runner for doing this, sometimes he had it rough enough already

"Something wrong between you and herr Sniper?" Judging by the way Scout's expression only darkened, Medic knew he was spot on with his assumptions. Scout and Sniper had been in a relationship for three months now and it seemed as if they'd finally stumbled upon their first fight. "What happened?" 

"Just freakin'- _ugh_ \- I don't even... he's just fuckin'... y'know, just _urghh_.." Scout was tangling himself into a web of unfinished sentences and the more he spoke, the worse it got. So Medic decided to throw out a safety net before the runner stupidly bit off his own tongue or something.

"Scout just take a little moment, okay? Breathe in and out and then tell us what is bothering you." With trouble written all over his face, Scout did what Medic told him. His hands had fallen into his lap as Scout stared at them for a second, meanwhile deliberately breathing in and out. Though seeing Scout so utterly worked up, borderline stressing out of his mind, really made Medic wonder what on _earth_ Sniper had done to upset him like this. But, the German also knew to remember that Scout had a tendency to enlarge things, so he wasn't immediately going to assume horrible affairs like cheating or something abusive. 

"Just," Scout eventually started again, brow furrowed dangerously hard. "okay so here's what ya gotta know though. Like all day already, Snipes been actin' weird an' I mean like _weirder_ than usual, y'know? He's talkin' even less than normal an' whenever I ask 'em somethin' it's like he has to resurface after bein' fuckin' drowned. So I mean, it's pretty fuckin' obvious _somethin'_ is wrong, but of course he ain't freakin' tellin' me!"

"Why is that 'of course'?"

"'cause it's freakin' _Snipes_ we're talkin' 'bout, Heavy. Do you know someone more secluded? I sure as hell don't, but that's not even ma point. Ma point's the fact that even now, when we're in a fuckin' _relationship_ , he still ain't keen on tellin' me shit! I thought at least _somewhere_ he'd find it in 'emself to open up to me, but I guess that's just wishful thinkin'." Scout sighed out so intensely after that emotional spill, he nearly sighed out his soul with it. There were little people Medic knew who experienced emotions and situations as fiercely as Scout did. Maybe it was just his age or somewhere deep inside the runner there was a defect that messed up the way people usually processed feelings, mainly to blame on the abandonment he'd experienced in the past. Surprisingly there were more parts of the runner damaged, everyone has their dents, so has Sniper, but Medic guessed that right now, these little personal complications were colliding. After all Sniper and Scout _were_ rather different.

"Well you said it yourself Scout." The German finally answered after that psychological analysis. "Sniper is well... Sniper. From the very start of this war people have been wondering what exactly is going on with him. He's secluded, introverted and has a hard time trusting people. It isn't in Sniper's nature to share things about himself."

"Exactly," Heavy continued. "we all know very little about Sniper, so as a result; also little about his troubles. I know it is hard to pry open metal shell or tear down wall, but maybe that is everything Sniper needs right now." Finally, Scout's brow was relaxing a bit. His rigid appearance easing ever so slightly as he listened to Heavy and Medic's words of wisdom.

"You have been together for three months now, Scout and honestly no one _ever_ expected Sniper could feel something like that for another person. I really do believe that he loves you Scout, of course he does. It is not because he tends to keep to himself, even when he is in need of help, that he does not want you to be there. I just think it is important to give him some time, show him that you will be there for him whenever he _does_ decide to tell you what is wrong."

"People are not made of stone, Scout. Not even Sniper." A silence fell as both Heavy and Medic watched the internal conflict play out on Scout's face. He was rapidly ticking his foot against the ground and harshly biting his lip, basically everything about him _screaming_ that the runner was too tense to handle this situation. Seeing that unhealthy composure, Medic rose from his chair and walked up to Scout.

"Come on now, it would be such a waste to throw away your relationship because of this minor bump, would it not?" He placed his hands on Scout's shoulders in a reassuring way, coaxing him to calm down already. "Relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw and calm down, Scout. It will be okay, things like this just require time, _people_ like Sniper require time. I am convinced sooner or later he will tell you what is on his mind, after all I believe you are the only person Sniper truly trusts." 

"Ya do?" Scout asked cautious, borderline hopeful. Poor thing, Medic thought as he saw the runner like that. It was rather simple, though, it didn't take a psychiatrist to figure out the runner's exact problem. Scout just has a fear of being left out, an entirely different sort of trust issue which is a wonderfully ugly scar from the hurt of being abandoned, but it's also the immediate reason he was expressing so much trouble with the closed off traits to Sniper's personality. Though despite that Medic was convinced they'd work through it, maybe Scout and Sniper _weren't_ that different after all.

"Okay.. alright... I guess you're right." Scout said as he nodded his head, his expression finally going soft. It wasn't right for someone so energetic and cheerful to be this sour. "Err... I'm sorry for just bargin' in here like that... I just didn't know where to go."

"That is okay, Scout." Heavy soothed him with a reassuring pad on the shoulder after having gotten up from his own seat. "Now go make things up with Sniper, alright?"

"I will," He spoke as Scout jumped off the examination table, already making a straight path for the door. "thanks guys, you're the best!"

Side by side, Medic and Heavy watched their discount son disappear into the hallway, a little smile resting on both their faces. Hopefully Sniper and Scout would make up and grow as a couple after this experience, but Medic really wasn't worried about that. It had already taken long enough for these two idiots to realise they had a thing for each other, they weren't just going to let this die after three months of trying.

Whatever the end result would be, for now Medic and Heavy had taken their part. They really were _great_ parents.

\--


	25. Tummy Aches

Scout whined loudly, brow knitted in pure irritation as he stretched as far as he could to distract himself from the waves of nausea crashing over him. For the past thirty minutes the runner had been feeling that way, weak and shaking with an upset stomach, feeling _so_ on edge about it that it was _impossible_ for him to get his mind away from the pain that easily matched the feeling of a brick being thrown into your stomach.

Luckily for Scout, he didn't have to deal with it on his own. When he had woken up, half an hour ago, Scout had hurriedly gotten out of bed to run towards the toilet because he had the feeling that he was about to have a reunion with the snacks he had been eating last night. Much to Scout's delight though, he wasn't, but that lingering feeling of pain, the vague idea of sluggishness that made it hard to swallow and those regular tummy aches remained making him hate the world and everything in it for hours to come. When he realised this, Scout staggered back towards the bunk bed he had been spending the night so far, only to see that he had woken up Sniper with all his struggling and whining, which in hindsight, wasn't that much of a surprise. Worried the marksman had asked what was wrong, but that particular feeling of nausea had been too intense for the runner to answer so all he did was press his hands against his stomach and whine.

A caring smile had appeared on the Aussie's face, before telling Scout to lay back down and continue to breath in and out in measured breathes. Scout did this, slipping back into bed and sighing as if he carried the weight of the world onto his shoulders before obliging to what Sniper had told him. Shakily he took his breathes, whining every so often when the pain had an unbearable peak and it felt as if someone punched him right into the stomach. Soon Sniper noticed that the runner was simply too uncomfortable to concentrate on his breathing, so he calmed him once again before slowly and steadily taking those breathes with him, meanwhile one of his hands soothingly rubbing Scout's upset stomach.

Feeling that Sniper's method started to show its effects, Scout placed his head atop the marksman's chest so he could hear that steady heartbeat he had grown so fond off. Nearly every night that lively drum lulled him into sleep and together with the way Sniper was helping him breathe and affectionately rubbed his stomach, his nausea was fading to the back of his mind, the pain only remaining as a numb, barely-there, feeling throughout his body.

He knew he could fall asleep safely now, knowing that all was well and that _if_ he'd once again wake up with the same feeling, Sniper would be _right there_ to help him get rid of it. 

\--


	26. Unfair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This drabble contains mayor character death (not Scout or Sniper tho) and has mentions of drug use and someone OD, so take care!

"I can't fuckin' _believe_ you!" The sentence had left Scout in one gust, like a wind of anger and frustration had been knocked right out of him as the outburst now echoed through the room, possibly even being heard in some other parts of the base as well. He just couldn't shake this feeling of disbelieve and utter cluelessness as he stared down the person in front of him, currently bound to one of Medic's semi hospital beds after having been found unconscious in his room due to a drug overdose.

God fucking _damn it_ , Spy!

Scout carted a hand through his own hair and sighed deeply in defeat, every little movement and gesture currently painting his body language screaming out how angry he actually was, how disappointed and dejected, so completely done with giving second chances, even to his own father. Spy had pushed it too far, too far for Scout to be able to turn a blind eye.

"Do you have any idea what this shit does to not only you, but the people 'round you as well? Do you have _any_ clue how fuckin' worried everyone is?!"

Spy's gaze fell to the white sheets beneath his fingers with skin as pale as snow and looking so very tired. "I do.." He silently croaked, but Scout was quick to intervene.

"Do you? Do you really? 'cause I'm pretty fuckin' sure you gave me the exact same answer last fuckin' time." Scout's tone of voice was blank of any compassion and that was only to blame on the fact that, indeed they _had_ been here before. And where last time Scout had stood there shocked and bewildered, scared to realise how bad things were going for Spy, here he was now angry and distraught, mad at the fact that he hadn't realised Spy falling back into old ways and mad at the fact that Spy had _allowed_ himself to fall back into said fucked up ways.

Scout snickered bitterly for a moment. "But here were are, back in the same exact position as last time 'cause you have no fuckin' _clue_ nor care 'bout other people's feelings and emotions, no care 'bout Medic stayin' up all night to make sure you don't fuckin' die or Engie worryin' himself into a mess over you or Sol an' Demo constantly checkin' in to see if everythin' is still okay, you don't care." It was cold and heartless and Scout knew better than to act like an addiction was _anything_ to be associated with having control and having everything under wraps. It's a battle that you have to fight every single day and once you take that plunge back down into what fucked you over in the first place, it's so hard to recover. Having someone yelling at you literal minutes after having woken up isn't helpful in any way whatsoever, but Scout didn't care, not right now at least.

"I do care, Scout..." Spy tried in his defence, voice a week sound layered with determination. "I do care about those things. I understand that you are mad and confused right now, but I care about the others and I care about _you_ -"

"Bullshit." Scout spit back within an instance, as if those words had been waiting to jump right off of his tongue. "That's fuckin' bullshit and you know it! 'cause if ya did, we wouldn't fuckin' be here!" His accusations were like knifes, making deep unfair wounds that somewhere deep inside Scout knew were not justified. "You're far too busy with tyrin' to destroy yourself to give a fuck 'bout other people." He made a half turn away from Spy, having to gnash his teeth to keep from showing any emotion besides anger. He was far too overwhelmed with disappointment to feel relieved that Spy was still alive, was far too bewildered to allow himself to cry over the reality that he felt so hurt and betrayed.

Just nothing about this whole fucking situation was fair.

"I'm done givin' second chances, _pa_." Scout empathised to really make it hurt. "This is a two way thing, y'know? I can push an' pull all I fuckin' want, but if you ain't budge, than I don't see the fuckin' point." He turned himself around, ready to walk out that door and show exactly how low his tolerance was to stuff like this. He grabbed the doorknob as a chill travelled all up through his arm and back down his spine, hand slightly shaking in the tight grip he had.

"Jeremy, I.." Spy tried in an attempt to stop Scout from leaving, but he had made up his mind and no amount of Spy explaining was going to change it, at least not right now. He needed some time away, some time to settle his thoughts, these feelings and to just be alone for a while.

He resisted the urge to slam the door on his way out, turning that pent up anger into stomping down the hallway as he made a straight path out of the base and towards the vacant battlefield where he knew he'd be left alone. He marched halfway across the sandy area and climbed creaky stairs to eventually plop himself down on the windowsill of Sniper's nest. With one leg hanging from the window and the other folded under him Indian style, Scout leaned his back against the wooden wall and looked up at the sky.

How did everything get so messed up? Spy's life had been so terribly broken into pieces ever since he was little - Scout knew the stories, they weren't pretty - but now everything was getting so out of hand that the cracks in Spy's life were prominently making themselves a way into other people's lives and even though Spy had been trying so hard, this misery still bled further into the base until it had escalated to this exact point. People were worried and Scout was so indescribably mad about it.

Inwardly he was cursing at everyone and everything, frowning heavily at the empty space before himself as he replayed this entire day in his head. From the moment Medic had informed him about Spy's situation, telling him Engineer had found an unconscious Spy in his smoking room after not having seen him all morning, a storm had been present within his eyes which only graduated into a whirlwind inside of his head and eventually into a tense fire flickering in his chest. His reaction had been so very different from last time, just because he'd warned Spy so much about the consequences of him ever doing that again and each and every time Spy had nodded his head, assuring him all was well.

But apparently it fucking wasn't.

Scout just had no way with himself, as if there was an itch right beneath his skin yearning to be scratched. His body felt _wrong_ somehow, as if it didn't fit him and his heart kept beating up against his chest. He was uneasy and no amount of just sitting was going to change that.

And still the hours melted away until the sky lost its colour and the wind became chill and eerie. For hours Scout had been sitting there trying to settle himself and now he'd finally gotten to a point where he felt calm enough to control the fucking tornado inside his head to go back to base and possibly even talk about what would happen next.

But as Scout lazily stretched and rose from his seat, the sound of advancing footsteps had him stalling all movement, curious to see who'd set out to find him after all these hours, even though it wasn't much of a guess. Once that leather slouch hat drew into the picture a light smile settled Scout's expression, yet as Sniper quietly walked up to him with his hands buried in his pockets and eyes apologetic, Scout's expression was quick to falter again.

"I don't need sympathy, y'know?" Scout told him in something that was meant to be half a joke, but Sniper didn't react, still looking at Scout with an expression the runner couldn't really place. "Hey Snipes c'mon I'm serious. Wipe that look off of your face, it's depressin' to look at." The runner brushed past him as suddenly every word that left his mouth sounded like an insult for whatever reason, as if Sniper actually feeling bad for him would scathe his pride or something.

But this sudden change in attitude didn't seem to really face the Australian as he turned to face Scout again, obviously about to say something, but Scout beat him to it.

"Jesus fuck." Scout cursed loudly, but mostly because just _something_ about Sniper was making him anxious and he knew mouthing off again would only stall time. "What? Are you here to lecture me or somethin'? Seriously dude, what the hell is up with you?"

"Scout," Sniper spoke levelled and calm, that exact tone making Scout's heart sink. What the hell was going on?

Scout's face twisted into a scowl opposed to previously furrowing his brow and harshly clenching his jaw, which had only sparked the beginning of a headache. He looked back at Sniper, a million thoughts running around his head and the storm in his eyes returning with gusto. "No I'm fuckin' serious, why are you actin' like this? It ain't funny! You know I fuckin' hate this shit, alright? So cut it alre-"

"Somethin' happened to Spy." Sniper suddenly confessed, keeping eye contact to make sure Scout had actually gotten the message, had received those harsh words who'd felt like taking a bullet to the chest. Scout's own eyes grew immensely, looking at Sniper and expecting - _hoping_ \- for it all to just be some stupid, far - fetched and fucked up joke. But as the silence lingered and Scout was just stupidly stood there with his mouth slightly agape and eyes frantically looking around himself, he knew that blissful escape was never going to come.

"W-what?" He whispered into the cold air, seeing Sniper shift slightly before himself to place his hands on his shoulders, a way to try and comfort him.

"He... suffered a heart attack about an hour ago." Sniper averted his eyes for a moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw and showing that despite everything he too felt so bad for what had happened. "He didn't make it, Scout..." He spoke with grief, words turning into whispers as he informed Scout about the passing of his own father.

"Wh-what? N-no." Scout stammered, breath suddenly quick in his chest and brow twitching in unease. "That - that ain't fair. The last thing I did was yell at him, it's- no, that's not what I wanted, I.."

Finally Sniper wrapped his arms around the runner, pulling him into a hug and ever so gentle swaying them from side to side. "I know, love. I know... It ain't fair.."

"Please tell me you're jokin'..." Scout begged as he pressed his face into the marksman's shoulder, hands fisted into the fabric of Sniper's jacket. " _Please_.."

"I'm so terribly sorry, Scout.." Sniper replied, hand slowly carting through Scout's hair before softly kissing the crown of his head. "I really wish I was just jokin'."

The marksman pressed Scout closer to himself, feeling him shiver and shake, trembling against his lanky frame. Scout's shoulders shook slightly and it wasn't long before he felt dampness against his shoulder and heard the sound of muffled sobs dying in the fabric of his jacket. The sight and the feeling had Sniper swallowing thickly himself and shutting his eyes against that ratchet feeling of tears stinging his eyes. The knowledge of having lost a teammate today, a _friend_ clearly too much for even Sniper to handle.

So there they stood, embracing one another within this cold moment, having no one but each other to help them along. It hurt and it stung and Sniper couldn't shake this vague unease that if he let go he'd have to watch Scout crumble like one big mess onto the floor.

So he didn't, he wouldn't. He'd continue holding Scout until the very moment their composure would somewhat return to them and it finally stopped feeling like the entire world was crashing down on them, wouldn't let go of him until everything stopped sucking so much and things started to make sense again. Sniper knew all too well what it feels like to lose a parent and it's depressing and hurtful and horrible to experience. Scout had been there for him, had hugged him, cried with him and all that until the moment the cloud in Sniper's head had slightly lifted.

So Sniper would do the same, however long that may take. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Spy tho, like I honestly really do, he's a dope character, just a fucking idiot


	27. Unfinished Business

"Are ya _kiddin'_ me? They don't celebrate Halloween down under?" Scout leaned forwards on his elbows, only empathizing how dumbfounded he was by hearing that. As if it was the most out of place thing to hear for an American, that by any chance, other countries hadn't picked up a tradition as such.

The bar the two had chosen to spend their Saturday night was surprisingly vacant, except for the token drunk guy slumped over a few empty glasses, mumbling unintelligible regrets into the remainders of his whiskey, and a handful of other people wanting nothing but to spend their Saturday night the exact same way Sniper and Scout wanted. No bothers, booze and the enjoyment of each other's company.

"I'm not kiddin', most Aussie's don't really care for it."

"How can ya _not_ care 'bout Halloween?!" The runner showed to be taken aback by this more than he really should and it left Sniper chuckling at how amusing the sight was. His eyes wide, staring at the Aussie in disbelieve while two of his fingers curled and uncurled around the rim of his glass.

An old brick of a television against the wall had been the main source of this conversation. After showing countless of over hyped commercials of overlarge Halloween parades, Sniper had half heartedly commented that he simply didn't understand so much commotion could go into a holiday solely revolving around scaring the socks off of people . Yeah sure, there was probably more to it than that, but Sniper had never taken to actually doing research, considering Australia hardly bets an eye to it. America was probably the only country to really indulge itself into this particular Celtic tradition, maybe some European countries as well, but Sniper doubted that.

"Not sure what to tell ya, love." The marksman sipped his bear, his brow suddenly furrowing in interest. "What's so special about it then?"

"'What's so _special_ 'bout it?'" Scout repeated in a tone so surprised and exaggerated, Sniper nearly believed the gremlin was offended by it. Taking a second look on that, the runner probably _was_ offended. "Oh poor thing... you poor _unknowing_ thing..." Scout mocked mildly, no hostility or sharp intensions behind his words. "Ya never heard 'bout trick - or - treatin'?" The Aussie shook his head. "Ever carved a pumpkin?"

"Well, _actually,_ "

"I mean carvin' a face into it, Snipes, not whatever weird ' _pumpkin abuse_ ' ya caused out of boredom back there in Australia." The runner took a long swig from his bear as Sniper's sudden silence showed exactly what Scout had thought. The over dramatic expression resting on his features making him seem like a washed up drunk for the few seconds the moment lasted.

"What _do_ you usually do there in Aussie land 'round this time then?"

"Nothin' in particular, really."

"So no parties, no candy? No chicks usin' Halloween as an opportunity to dress as _slutty_ as they can?" Again the marksman made the same gesture, shaking his head no, which earned a loud 'tssk' from Scout. "No wonder you're gay!" Sniper, in his turn, snorted.

"Seems like it didn't do much for you either, did it, _love_." He countered cunningly. The young man grinned embarrassed, realising how stupid his comment actually was, but in his head it had sounded funny... fuck it, he _was_ funny.

" _A-anyway_!" Scout recovered quickly. "If ya didn't spend your childhood trick - or - treatin' or makin' messes with your friends or, y'know, basically _any_ normal teenage boy things, what did ya spend all your time on?" That was interesting. It was true that the marksman could hardly claim he had had the most usual childhood ever. Going hunting every weekend and trying to perfect the skill of shooting a rifle from an early age, wasn't exactly the perfect cut out childhood any _normal_ boy would go through. But if he had to be honest? He wouldn't wish for another one.

"I spend lots of times campin' with my dad or goin' huntin' whenever I had free time. We lived real far out from the city, my friends simply weren't close enough to be 'makin' messes together'." Scout pushed his mouth into a thin line, slowly and barely notable nodding his head at the story.

"An' who needs friends when ya have a rifle, right?" Cocking his head to the side and squinting his eyes at the runner, Sniper faked an offended expression.

"No, you're gettin' in all wrong."

"Really? How so?"

"My rifle ain't the reason I barely had friends, it's becomin' an assassin that did the trick." Sniper shamefully laughed at his own joke, the soft bellows of laughter emerging from how true his remark actually was. In attempt to regain his normal posture, the marksman swallowed his last chuckles with beer as he looked back at Scout who was finishing off his own.

"Hmm!" Scout noised through his nostrils, before putting his empty glass back down on the oak table. "Talkin' 'bout you bein' an assassin, how come ya never like, got in any trouble 'cause of it? Don't know how that goes in Australia, but in _America_ ya can't just kill someone an' get away with it, y'know?" Sniper was surprised Scout actually occupied his time thinking about stuff like that. Not one mercenary in the entire team had asked him something even remotely close to that and either it was because simply nobody thought about it, or because nobody cared.

"Well, bein' an assassin comes with always havin' to be on the run, 'cause if ya don't, you'll indeed get caught. The job pays bloody well, but you'll be paranoid as what, I'll tell ya that."

"But you've been in the same place for like, almost four years now, how come ya haven't been caught?" Sniper looked around, an old habit boiling back up from his active years as assassin. Still paranoid that maybe _somebody_ would be listening. The walls have ears, an ice cold truth he had learned in all his experience.

"I made a deal with Miss P. before signin' up with RED. I told her I'd only take the job if they'd assure me safety and they did. Don't _bloody_ know how they did it, but they've basically erased my entire history of bein' an assassin. Everybody who was lookin' for me stopped and everythin' that could lead back to me has disappeared. Brilliant work if ya ask me." Massaging the bridge of nose, Sniper suddenly noticed a distracted look of what could almost be described as terror on Scout's face. It took the Aussie the full minute to realize Scout was gawking past him rather than at him. Three trials of trying to get the runner's attention finally ended in Scout pointing a finger towards the wall behind Sniper accompanied by a stutter of words.

"Snipes... y-ya might want to... _rethink_ what ya just said..." Sniper stared another ten seconds at Scout with a furrowed brow before turning his head towards the wall behind him. As his brain had caught up with what his eyes were seeing, Sniper's blood ran ice cold. Staring back at him from that same brick of a TV as before, was his own likeness in a snapshot that had been unknowingly taken of him during a job probably _years ago_.

"-local police have been looking for an anonymous man who has been charged for multiple murders and is believed to be an active assassin. After new clues regarding this matter have been found and anonymous tips were given, the case got reopened. The man is believed to be somewhere in his early thirties and can only be described as very tall and lanky. Have you seen this person or do you have any clues that could lead to the capture of this man, please contact us. Thank you for your time and good evening."

Suddenly the air around Sniper got thick, it now being unbelievably difficult to breathe as his chest tightened in a suffocating knot. Sweat broke out on his brow and his hands started to shake, which only happened on real rare occasions. Panic oozed itself within him, the foreign feeling leaving him utterly clueless. It was happening again, yet again he was wanted, yet again people would be looking for him as if he were a dog, some wild animal roaming the streets and scaring of people, maybe he would indeed have his own input on Halloween this year, who knew?

"Bloody hell..." A choked up whisper escaped him, suddenly very aware of every single person in the building. Did they _know_? Had anyone noticed or were they simply too deeply in conversation to notice?

"Snipes?" Maybe Scout had called out his name once or seven times so far, it was anyone's guess really, but eventually it managed to catch the distressed Aussie's attention. "Hey Snipes, c'mon let's get outta here an' go back to base, alright?"

"Y-yeah..." Sniper grumbled half to himself. Not daring to look around, afraid it might attract someone's attention, the marksman rose to his feet, dropped a few bills on the table to cover their tab and together with Scout got out of there without someone jumping from their seat to try and stop him.

Somewhere, Sniper half expect police sirens to come out their way during their walk back to his truck, _fortunately_ for them the streets were just as empty as they should be at the hour of 1:30AM and without any bumps or scratches, the two got their destination.

Scout had strongly held onto his hand during their short yet terror filled walk, almost as if he'd was afraid the marksman would disappear the moment he'd let go. He wouldn't though, somewhere he knew he'd be safe on base, tucked away from society, but he also knew that from now on, the moment he'd show his face anywhere outside of that

... the hunt on the anonymous assassin would be on. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the very first drabble I've written about these two and strangely enough it doesn't make me completely die because of cringe when I reread it, very nice


	28. Yell, Scream, Cry, Please Just Say Something, Anything

_Respawn fucked up_.

"It... it happens, Slim. It's a machine after all.."

_Respawn fucked up._

"This is all I can do now, we just have to wait.."

_Respawn fucked up._

"We're here for ye, lad. Don't forget that.."

_Respawn fucked up and now everything was a mess._

Every day ever since the incident had happened, Sniper sat next to Scout's bed in the hospital quarters of the base. Around six am every day before anyone even thought about rousing themselves from sleep, Sniper sat there, waiting and only ever left hours after everyone had already long gone to sleep again.

It was like clockwork.

He waited for change, for good news, waited for movement, waited for Scout to open his eyes again, but nothing happened, nothing ever happened. All he was left with was the sleeping form of his lover as he was stuck watching his chest rise and fall and hear his heartbeat beep loudly through the empty room, biting at Sniper's ears.

It was so unbearable, but it were the _only_ signs that Scout was still alive.

_Respawn fucked up and that's why you're in a coma now_.

It'd been a couple of weeks already and days started to blur together, mostly because every day was the exact same. Sniper would wake up, sit by Scout's side until far into the late evening and go back to bed. _Every single fucking day_ Sniper numbly sat through the same hours, the same moments, the same thoughts and nothing would ever change.

Scout just wasn't waking up.

Medic, just like every other day, walked in to give his usual speech. He rehashed the same few words that were supposed to be to any comfort to Sniper, but all they told him was that Scout wasn't getting worse, but he also wasn't getting any better.

"Patience, Sniper. We just have to wait..."

_Wait_. That's all we have to do, that's all we can do.

_Wait_. There simply are no other options.

_Just wait_.

"I'm bloody tired of waitin'." Sniper snapped back, hands balling into fists in his lap, his lanky form slightly shaking from pent up anger or fear or perhaps even both.

A hand attentively rested on his shoulder, squeezing once and Sniper had to gather every bit of restraint to not flinch or bat his hand away. He was getting so tired of all this compassion, all these empty promises, he just wanted Scout to wake up.

Was that _so much_ to ask?

_Apparently_ because it had been nearly a month now and Scout was still as far away from him as he could have ever possibly been.

He heard retreating footsteps, realising Medic was leaving the room to once again leave Sniper alone with nothing but his thoughts and this ever increasing frustration that made his skin crawl. He'd been feeling extremely out of his element ever since Scout got into this coma. His usual collected spirit was crumbling with every beat that heart monitor forced through Sniper's skull and even though Scout's condition wasn't getting worse, Sniper's hopes were faltering.

The very idea of losing Scout without even being able to say goodbye to him made Sniper feel sick, made him _panic_ even and that was terrain the marksman was _not_ familiar with.

Suddenly he felt dampness at his eyes and his hand trembled where it was harshly gripping onto the fabric of Scout's blanket, not really sure when he'd started holding it, but he was. Tears started streaming down his face, despite his best efforts. Sniper just couldn't take it anymore, seeing Scout like that. He missed his voice, missed his smile, missed his hugs and missed waking up next to him in the morning.

His chest was aching, sorrow pounding deep within him like a drum and making him feel so utterly useless, uneasy, so - so _lost_.

He clenched his jaws, trying to bite back every emotion that nagged at him to snap, to completely break down, to go punch a _goddamned_ wall because he had no idea what else to do.

There was an urge to pull his own hair, to wear a hole into the fabric his hands were momentarily clutched into, just to do _something_ to regain control.

It was unbearable, he'd never felt like this before, never felt so derailed and as if the situation, the need for control was just always those few inches away from him.

He couldn't take it anymore, he was going _mad_.

"Yell, scream, cry, _please_ , just say somethin', _anythin'_!" Sniper suddenly yelled, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were going white.

But nothing happened. Of course it didn't.

Surprisingly Sniper found himself calming down again after that outburst, feeling his own heartbeat in his throat as his breathing stilled and the beeping of the heart monitor was once again the only source providing sound.

"I'm sorry..." He croaked silently, feeling so utterly ridiculous now as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his neck, eyes still red and puffy and a few tears still rolling down his face.

He looked at Scout's face, looked at his closed eyes and remembered what they looked like, remembered how clear blue they were, like the colour of the sky on a beautiful day. He looked at his dishwater blond hair and leaned closer to run a hand through it, feeling just how soft it was and remembering every time he buried his face in it while sleeping.

He sighed deeply as he looked his lover over. God he missed him so much, it physically hurt him. But... this was all he could do.

He just had to wait. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's sad hours out here, boys


	29. You're My Lobster

" _Lobsters are invertebrates with a hard protective exoskeleton. Like most arthropods, lobsters must moult to grow, which leaves them vulnerable. During the moulting process, several species change colour..."_

Scout wondered if they could have possible chosen someone more _boring_ to read those lines than the guy narrating this programme, his nasal British accented voice swelling through the camper and the fact that he sounded as if he already had been dead for a good couple of years now only made it worse. The narrator seemed to be just as excited about these lobsters as Scout himself was, but he had agreed on watching TV with Sniper as a calm Friday night activity and well... Scout had forgotten for a moment there that _this_ is the type of crap Sniper really likes. Boring, tedious documentaries with a narrated who is as tired of this bullshit as they expect the watchers to be, but not Sniper, no he actually managed to stay awake during this.

Though he had to admit, it was real cute to see. Whilst Scout fought tooth and nail to stay awake, Sniper peacefully watched on, dropping in facts of his own whenever he felt like it and even going so far as confirming whatever that narrated had to say with a low hum, though Scout was convinced Sniper wasn't aware of that himself. After a weak of running around, shooting a gun and the unavoidable amount of times dying that came with that package, this is really all Scout wanted. Snuggling on a couch, borderline falling asleep as he felt that satisfying feeling he always had whenever he and Sniper did something _domestic_ would you call it.

_"These creatures live up to an estimated 45 to 50 years in the wild, although determining age is rather difficult..."_

The runner slightly shifted, head partly resting on Sniper's chest and their legs intertwined in a comforting mess that was all limbs. His arms snaked around the marksman's torso, a content sigh slipping from his mouth as Sniper got the hint and started rubbing soothing circles on Scout's back. Yeah this was perfect and something Scout had _never_ expected to happen if it were one year prior. You see, Scout had always been convinced that he and Sniper would more or less stay strangers to each other. They had nothing to bond over, nothing to discuss, yet still... it _clicked_ somehow. As if whenever they were together puzzles pieces fell into place and the world shaped into something better. He was real fond of Sniper and apparently, against all odds, Sniper was rather keen on him too.

_"Lobsters are found in all oceans. They live on rocky, or muddy bottoms from the shoreline to beyond the edge of the continental shelf. They are omnivores and typically eat live prey such as fish, molluscs, other crustaceans, worms and some plants too..."_

Everything was nearly doing him under, waves of sleep crashing over him like a tidal wave. Slowly his eyes closed with one more inch each time they fluttered open and close, but as eventually his breathing eased into a solid one and Scout decided to give up this useless resistance, Sniper's low voice suddenly woke him up from a sleep he wasn't even having yet.

"Ya know, lobsters actually pick a mate for the rest of their lives."

"Really?" Scout managed, though the thickness in his voice gave away how close he had been to actually falling asleep.

"Yeah, it's kind a like findin' your soul mate as a human, one person to share the rest of your life with." Knowing the marksman, he had given that piece of information for the sheer purpose of sharing something that interested him, not to be a cheesy bastard unlike Scout, who upon hearing that immediately stirred more awake. He _had_ heard the double entendre Sniper miserably failed to pick up, so he decided to help a bit.

Chuckling with half lidded eyes and a sleepy grin, Scout slid his hand down to where Sniper's was resting on his hip to lace their fingers together. Looking up, little sparks of mischief made that grin grow into a full on smile now.

"You okay?" Sniper asked with a tad bit too much concern than was actually needed. Scout was fine, his low energy levels were probably making him appear a bit drunk, but he was conscious enough to make this bad joke and by _God_ he would!

"Totally fine, was just thinkin'..." Their gazes crossed, it was now or never. "Guess you're ma lobster, Snipes."

It took a moment for Sniper to catch on, brow going from a furrowed pondering to relaxed in only the span of a second as that awfully dull punch line finally made sense. He chuckled deeply, hand coming up to rub his face which only served as an attempt to make him look tired. Though Scout knew better, he wasn't to be fooled by that right now. Sniper was _blushing,_ as he always would whenever Scout blurted out something cheesier than a damn cheese fondue.

"Yeah Scout, guess I'm your bloody lobster." Sniper was still laughing, hit by how stupidly clever that was. "Ya really are a rare case, aren't ya?"

"I managed to make ya blush, didn't I? Rare case or not, I'm writin' that down as a freakin' victory, mister an' 'sides you are the one lettin' this piece of work in your own house. I'm like a vampire.. once ya invite me, you ain't getting rid of me!" Suddenly feeling the soft fabric of a pillow being shoved in his face, Scout swallowed his words only to struggle back in a playful manner, though as he suddenly felt two hands attacking his sides and tickling him for all he was worth, Scout led out a muffled scream, a sobbed begging for Sniper to not go that far.

"N- _no_ Snipes, please... _please_ you're gonna kill me!" The hands did not stop, putting Scout in such a state that he was unable to do anything. "Have mercy!" He choked out in - between laughing fits. "You - you _win_ okay?! C'mon Snipes, you win!" As suddenly as he had been attacked, Sniper's hands ceased their ministrations, allowing Scout to sit upright again. A smug filled expression greeted the runner once every piece of him was back from that unfair 'fight', a face Sniper only ever made whenever he thought himself to be quite _clever_.

"I'm writin' that down as a victory, love." Groaning loudly, Scout feebly punched Sniper's chest upon hearing his own words being served right back to him. This bastard, this unbelievable bastard, winning from him in his own goddamn game.

But hey... he loved him, so it was all okay.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These were all my old Speeding Bullet drabbles and the word count being over 50,000+ words just has me like *surprised pikachu face* if I happen to make new ones later on, I'll add them on the list
> 
> Hope y'all had fun reading them so far!


	30. Unexplainable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I found while browsing my PC, it's really just one big vent drabble, written in a time where I wasn't doing too good, so I guess that's a bit of a warning? I mean, it's not that bad, just a lot of thoughts and very /very/ ooc

Scout felt bad, as a matter of fact he felt like total shit standing there, trying his hardest not to get ravished by his own stupid mind. His eyes were big, heart seizing to beat for an instance, this uncomfortable heat spreading through his chest as he considered what Sniper had just told him, what _innocent_ thing the marksman informed him with yet it made him feel so bad and the fact that it made him feel bad, made him feel even worse.

“Oh I was out with Demo, Heavy and Engineer last night.” Sniper even smiled after he said it, innocent expression across his face, because it was, it _was_ innocent, but Scout’s mind couldn’t shut the hell up, couldn’t stop yelling at him for a single instant and it had the runner conflicted, mad, angry, had him telling himself that this wasn’t good and that he should be real pissed off right now.

_At Sniper_? Scout wanted to shake his head, but the feeling was bordering on overwhelming.

_At himself?_ He better, he _fucking_ better because Sniper hadn’t done anything wrong, yet these feelings were very real and very unfair and it made Scout feel like he was about to explode right then and fucking there.

Sniper had simply told him where he’d been last night. Without a worry or care the marksman explained he’d gone to a bar with Demo, Heavy and Engineer to get a few drinks and spend some time together. It was innocent, it was just Sniper spending his free time which ever way _he_ wanted, but yet Scout remained speechless, contemplating yesterday evening and feeling so fucking bad while doing it.

He’d been worried, he’d been worried sick. After yesterday’s match Scout had taken a shower – usually preferring to do it way before the others so it wouldn’t be so chaotic – and once he returned he was very much unable to find Sniper anywhere. He’d worriedly asked around the base if anyone knew where he was and much to what Sniper was telling him now, Medic and Spy and even Soldier had tiredly suggested he’d gone out drinking.

So Scout knew it, but he never wanted to believe it, because that somehow only made it worse.

Sniper was an adult, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted, when and where and for how long, all that without having to tell Scout. Scout tried telling himself that the marksman going off without checking up first or saying bye or _whatever_ wasn’t anything that should worry him, it didn’t mean Sniper was holding back some secret agenda of actually hating Scout and not _wanting_ him to be at jovial gatherings like that.

_It didn’t mean that, it really fucking didn’t._

Yet it was the only thing he could say, the only thing he could think off and the only thing capable of breaking his own heart.

It made him feel anger and frustration that was clearly misplaced, destroying this idea that everything was fine, because it most definitely wasn’t and it wasn’t fair, wasn’t something Sniper had actually done wrong. It was only what Scout told himself and now here he was, angry and confused and feeling like he was about to shake apart, _just because_ Sniper had gone out drinking without telling him.

He was a fucking lunatic, biting back the urge to ask Sniper a thousand and once questions on why and what and if he was angry with him or if he’d done something wrong. It was sad to say, but Scout had slipped up with things like this before and either Sniper tended to be dense at times, but it had seemed like he hadn’t always caught on when Scout had thought himself in a sour mood and acted short or distant, or at least that’s what Scout had thought.

“Love?” Scout hadn’t realised that he was still staring, that for the solid few seconds that had passed he’d been staring a whole into Sniper’s soul instead of saying something.

But he usually needed a moment to calm down, before he’d go and say something he’d regret later, it happened, it happened far too much for Scout’s own liking, but usually he managed to get away with it.

He just needed to be alone for a bit he believed, leave Sniper be so he couldn’t possibly make him feel bad for something that _wasn’t even his fault_. But being alone usually also meant silence, time to think and if there was one fuel to this fire already burning in Scout’s very own being, then it was being left completely alone, unprotected from his pondering.

“I uh,” Scout eventually spoke up, voice catching in his throat for an instance before he cleared it and tried to safe his own skin. “Yeah I,” He pointed a thumb behind himself, eyes drifting away from the marksman. “I need to uh, see Medic about – about a thing. Yeah.” It made no sense to tell Sniper something like that, surely because it was so utterly disconnected from the conversation they’d been having beforehand, but it was all Scout’s mind could muster.

“Yeah.” He repeated shortly once again before moving to walk past Sniper, ignoring the perplexed expression furrowing the marksman’s brow. Yet as he made his beeline for the camper’s door, Scout felt a hand at his wrist and felt himself getting pulled back.

He whipped around, expression easily matching the perplexity of Sniper’s own.

_You didn’t want be me being there yesterday, why keep me here now, huh?_

It was unfair, it was so _so_ unfair, but Scout couldn’t help it. His understanding of other people’s gestures and emotions was so mangled, but only ever because of what he told himself, not because of what those people actually did.

“What’s wrong?” Sniper asked point blank, no beating around the bush and it only made Scout’s heart sink further.

“Whaddaya mean?” He tried, but the way Sniper’s eyebrow rose just that little higher than the other told Scout that he was very much onto him.

He was going to have to explain himself in a way that made sense and it frightened the runner. There was something so soul baring about sharing this with someone, as it he’d let them peak into this nasty part of himself, this part he’d rather lock away somewhere deep so it couldn’t bother anyone but himself.

But hey newsflash! It _wasn’t_ only bothering himself!

“I mean that you were about ready to storm out of here. I recognize that expression, somethin’ is botherin’ ya. So, what’s wrong?”

Sniper meant well, but Scout never liked it when he was given an opportunity to speak because it usually lead him to completely different places then where he’d actually meant to start and finish.

And yet, as many times before, the runner couldn’t help himself.

“Are you mad at me?”

The marksman’s expression shifted, morphing into something between confusion and genuine concern and seeing that display of emotions made Scout’s chest burn brighter. He felt as though Sniper wasn’t being honest with him, as if he was just giving him a quick answer for the sake of shutting him up and it made him mad, it made him _so_ mad, which was a prime example of letting this go to his head, acting onto feelings that _aren’t_ justified and thoughts that _aren’t_ real.

“If you don’t wanne spend time with me, that’s okay, I understand that, I just.. I’d rather have someone tell me first, so I at least know what’s goin’ on. I get that ya need time away from me, but yeah no I dunno, I guess I just _need_ people to be frank with me.” A single bitter laugh escaped him, expression glued to the wall behind the marksman. “Just be honest with me man, I can handle it.”

“What are you goin’ on about?” 

Sniper wasn’t even catching on and it caused for a real dramatic shift in Scout’s emotions. He suddenly felt like a total fucking idiot, like some feathered brained fuck pleading a case that made no fucking sense. He wanted to back paddle, wanted to dismiss it before he’d go and embarrass himself even further.

So he shook his head, silently apologizing before making another attempt to leave the RV, but Sniper was quick and before he knew it, the marksman had him once again seized by the wrist, moving to block Scout’s only way out.

“No, no way.” Sniper stated firmly. “You’re not leavin’ here like this. It’s time we _actually_ talk about this.”

“ _Actually_?”

“Yes, actually. Not just the usual of you dismissin’ everythin’ and goin’ off bein’ sour on yourself. I want to know what’s goin’ on and what all this is about.”

Scout was dumbstruck. He’d always thought Sniper hadn’t really noticed to changes in behaviour and mood, had expected the marksman to be more _dense_ about it. Maybe it had been such pungent problem that Sniper couldn’t help but notice, which if Scout really thought about it made more sense.

“I wouldn’t know what to tell ya, to be honest.” Scout said brutally honest, hating how he was turning this situation into something negative and demanding of time and attention, while it wasn’t anything _bad_ really. It was just Scout getting inside his own head, and locking himself up with negativity he could only ever express to himself.

Sniper looked him over for a moment, arms crossing over his chest. “Did you ask me that because I went out drinkin’ yesterday?”

The runner winched at that, because yes, very much that, but he was afraid that if he’d come clean about stuff like that, Sniper would change and adapt everything to Scout, while that was something that shouldn’t _ever_ happen! He didn’t want to make the marksman feel guilty about simply living his life.

“It doesn’t matter.” Scout spoke quietly, finally feeling that anger turning on him. “Just – just _forget_ about it, alright? I’m sorry for bringin’ it up like that, didn’t mean to waste your time.”

“This doesn’t seem like somethin’ to just ‘forget about’.” Sniper’s tone of voice had gotten softer, but it still held this ire of wanting to get to the point, probably knowing Scout had a tendency to be all over the place. “Tell me. _Was_ it because I went out drinkin’ yesterday?” 

Scout sighed deeply as he wrung his hands together. He was afraid that if he started explaining himself he wouldn’t be thorough enough, that he’d remain incomplete afterwards. But then again what was he supposed to tell the marksman?

But he had to say _something_.

“It wasn’t – it’s not you goin’ out drinkin’, it’s just uh,” He stammered, heart beating itself into a frenzy. “It’s just that you didn’t _tell me_ , I think.. S-stuff like that it makes me feel like,” He shook his head, hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Makes you feel like what, love..?”

A frustrated little noise escaped Scout. “Just, before I tell ya _anythin’_ , promise me it won’t change stuff. P-promise me ya won’t blame yourself ‘cause ya shouldn’t. I’m just _unreasonable_.”

Sniper nodded his head, answering easily. “Promise.”

And Scout sighed again, brow raising for an instance. Here it was, the moment he’d show the shittiest part of himself.

“It makes me feel like ya didn’t want me there,” Scout stated bluntly, gaze absently staring at the dirty coffee mug stationed in Sniper’s kitchen. “makes me feel like ya actually don’t like me, that ya wanne get rid of me, that I’ve pissed you off in _some_ way an’ that now your patience has run its course an’ ya realise that I’m someone shitty to be ‘round, that ya talked ‘bout me with Demo, Heavy an’ Engie an’ that spendin’ time with ‘em is so much more enjoyable than spendin’ time with me,” Scout’s mouth ran a hundred miles a minute, fuelled solely by the urge to explain everything so Sniper wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“It’s just some fucked up combination of jealousy an’ uncertainty an’ _fear_ I guess, but I can’t – can’t really explain it in a way that doesn’t make me sound like some _asshole_ bein’ mad at you for simply goin’ out for a drink an’ that sucks. It’s simple, I _know_ I’m an asshole for feelin’ that way, ‘cause it ain’t fair.” He finally looked up at Sniper. “It’s shitty right? How are you supposed to go out next time without feelin’ like ya have to take me along or freakin’ feel like ya need my permission or somethin’? You didn’t do anythin’ wrong, but I can’t help but to get in my own head ‘bout it. But that ain’t fair to you an’ anyone else who’s ever made me feel this way, it sucks, it fuckin’ _sucks_.”

He felt like sinking through the floor and ascending straight towards the ninth circle of hell. It was hard not to feel like he was bothering people, hard to not tell himself it’d be best if he left everyone alone. He was making Sniper feel bad about something that wasn’t his fault, about a normal activity and god Scout felt like such a fucking _asshole_.

“Do you understand where those feelings come from?” Sniper asked eventually, nothing in his expression or tone of voice hinting _anything_ on how he might be feeling.

“Not really, but then again I do..? I just tend to, tend to get in my head a lot. Tend to misjudge things.”

“What do you mean with that?”

Now that was an entirely different rabbit whole for them to get lost in, but hey might as well make the plunge now, while they were on it.

“Thoughts tend to escalate.” Scout explained. “It starts somewhere innocent, maybe just someone acting short with me an’ then it kinda just turns into me tellin’ myself I did somethin’ to upset ‘em an’ then I wanne know what I did wrong ‘cause things can’t be solved if I don’t know, right?” He shook his head. “As you’ve probably noticed, I give quite the opportunities to people to explain to me what I did wrong, but if they constantly tell me I didn’t do anythin’ wrong, but _keep actin’_ like that then I just assume they’re not bein’ honest with me an’ that somehow irritates me.”

_Get to the fucking point already._

“I tend to tell myself a lot that people hate me or that they’re annoyed with me an’ I used to try an’ prematurely solve that by bein’ a people pleaser.”

Sniper slowly nodded his head but remained quiet and honestly that was fine. Scout didn’t expect Sniper to solve this for him, he was already glad that he hadn’t send him out of his RV, hadn’t _already_ broken up with him.

“I care a whole lot about others, man. I know I don’t always come off that way, but I do. I worry where people’s heads are at, worry if they’re doin’ okay, takin’ care of ‘emselves, worry ‘bout how they’re feelin’ an’ how their day was an’ if it’s not good, I wanne solve it. I go way overboard with that, sometimes I only find myself stressed out over how _others_ are feelin’ an’ how they’re feelin’ ‘bout me that I tend to forget that I have feelin’s too, but once I _do_ remember it just goes to shit completely.” 

Scout actually felt himself choking up at this. It was the most honest he’s been with himself and anyone in a very long while and it actually hurt a lot to think about.

“I sometimes just have to realise that people don’t do the same for me.” He spoke up quietly. “They’re not worried ‘bout me, not busy ‘bout how I might be feelin’ while I’m just _unable_ to let that go. But it’s how things should be, they shouldn’t care. But the fact that I do it an’ do it so vividly makes me feel like it’s unfair, which _isn’t_ fair to those people, but I just… it happens and I can’t just,” He chuckled tiredly. “can’t just turn it off.. It’s unfair of me to misjudge my place in other people’s life, ‘cause I know it’ll end up hurtin’ me.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I know it makes little to no sense an’ I really don’t expect ya to say anythin’ on the matter either. I just want ya to know that things escalate, my mind isn’t a fun place to be an’ lately that’s been projectin’ onto my behaviour. I’m _aware_ things like these are unfair. There isn’t anythin’ neither one of us can do to change it, so I dunno,” He tiredly rubbed his face, a shuddering breath leaving him. “It’s fine an’ I understand that ‘cause of things like this ya need time away from me, if not wantin’ to be completely left alone.”

He noticed Sniper making an attempt to speak, probably wanting to interject, wanting to tell him that no it isn’t like that, but Scout beat him to it, not wanting Sniper to make any empty promises.

Scout shook his head at Sniper, at whatever he’d wanted to tell him. “No it’s really okay. I’m a handful, man an’ I know that. I don’t know how to solve this an’ neither do you, so I guess I really only just want to tell ya that..

.. I’m sorry.”

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, I don't really think Scout is like this, he just tends to be the character to reflect onto
> 
> Hope y'all are staying safe out there! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Scout being allowed to act like an actual adult is my kink


End file.
